Dreaming

My soul sister wants to record ‘Dreaming with a broken heart’, John Mayer. She is also presently obsessed with a male calf whom she has named Santosh (her sense of humour is exceedingly awkward, much like mine, except her’s is in Hindi and flourished with awful words that I am only just learning the meanings of, and mine is in a comparatively pale anorexic English. But I digress). I was attempting to play the central motif, but really wasn’t getting the accents right, I was thinking too much of my fingers and hands and the volume, and wasn’t really listening. Much like meditation, seeing the leaf but not the forest. It’s always quite a terrifying experience, letting go, whether you’re trying to play something, or falling in love, or simply sitting on your meditation cushion (although I usually fall asleep before I get there). But y’all know all this. Or do you.

I really must do something about this pug’s snoring, I have never been able to endure snoring, not my father’s and well I don’t really know much about the rest, but I am certainly not going to entertain a pug’s droning. Suggestions are welcome, they must involve keeping him alive.

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