This could just be the wine talking, but I’m feeling quite accomplished. I think my new song is a resounding success, and I suppose I’m giving myself permission to be pleased with that. I think I have finally become a semi competent songwriter, have graduated from beginner to amateur. In my mind, there are three levels of songwriters, and now I’m finally halfway to the top. Well, maybe there’s more like four levels. Joni Mitchell is the fourth level and she sort of just hangs out there all by herself.

I feel like I’ve gotten somewhere because of all of the comments and faves I got. A song really just exists in a vacuum until it’s validated by listeners. It’s a hard truth, but there it is.

I’ve started writing a new song, not because I felt obligated, but because I accidentally bumped into my guitar when I sat down for breakfast. Still chained to the muse monster and all that. Part of me still wants to end all this music business, especially now after hitting such a high note (to say nothing of my horrible tinnitus), but here we go again.