Sometimes its so hard to find the right words. Both speech and written elude you. Other times the words are frantic rushing around begging, demanding, to be plucked from my head. Like now. In the middle of a writers semiblock where I have words but no reason or solid idea just items that seem pretty when strewn together... Like decoration for paper.
Its times like this that I listen to the blues. The melody will sooth me and the lyrics will strum at my soul like a perfect minstrel for clear thought. Tonight Etta James and Billie Holiday will be !y goddesses and muse.
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