Yesterday was a bleak day indeed. Walking home from a very important, but essentially very silly meeting with a treadmill and listening to everything revolving around itself in eternal circles I suddenly felt week at the knees.
I contemplated giving it all, as in all, the ill-famed finger. Instead a poem began taking shape in my head. And strangely enough, the words slowly turned things around. All of a sudden they gave purpose to the idea of proceeding home with haste, putting put pen to paper and whipping out my keyboard.
And after some tweaking of words and musical notes – and an excellent piece of advice from Emmett concerning the final touch – I’m all transformed.
Yup. This is the new, happy me: