Hello readers, lately I’ve been putting all my rhymes into my music. That’s my way of saying that I don’t have a poem for you. Unless you want to hear about my current physical state? It is painful. Painful tired. I could totally write a poem about it, but I don’t want to dwell on that. Too tired.
Open mic night last night. It made me happy. John wasn’t there…But still. I went with my, now single, cousin, and we drank tea and shared a quiche and listened to the other musicians. A lot of the regulars there remembered me, I’ve been going for a good chunk of the past year, so it makes since, but it made me feel good. Plus, one coffee shop patron specifically asked me when I was playing. He wasn’t just another musician trying to be friendly or anything either, but a regular person who actually wanted to hear ME sing.
There’s a small possibility that he was romantically interested in me. But I’m waving that notion aside, because the idea of somebody loving the sound of my voice enough to just want to hear me, with no other interests in dating me makes me happy. When I finally went on stage to perform, the audience consisted of my cousin, the guy who had spoken to me, two other musicians, a couple, and the host. They applauded kindly and the guy I just met cheered for me enthusiastically. After open mic night ended (I was the second to last person signed up), he politely asked if he could sit with me and my cousin, and he did, and we chatted and he asked me a bunch of questions about my music and then asked if I could play another song for him. So I did.
It’s hard to tell if they like your music or they like you. Sometimes it’s both. I mean, I totally had huge crushes on most of the musicians at open mic night (the ones around my age), but I still loved their music, or at some point I didn’t like them but then started to want to be around them all the time simply because of their voice or their guitar skill. (Note for the guys: musical talent is extremely attractive…Actually, most any talent is really attractive. Seeing you do something well, being the best version of yourself, being confident and doing what you are meant to be doing with your life, that is attractive. Unless of course whatever you’re doing is completely annoying. I mean, a really good bagpipe player is still…a bagpipe player. I’m sorry man, it’s a bagpipe. Unless you’re in Scotland. You’re probably king of everything if you’re a hot bagpipe player in Scotland. But I sooooo digress.)
The point is, somebody took an interest in my music and my talent and me, and it made me happy. Made me remember why I sing and why I was going to the open mic nights in the first place, not to see John, which I totally had been doing for a good number of weeks there, but to just sing. To enjoy it. To spread joy. To let those crazy emotions out and tell the world how I’m feeling.
Which is kind of what I do here, except with an audience that can actually connect a face to the words, and talk to me in person, and tell me they like my songs….
Anyway, it was a good night, and I survived another day without John. Except, we were kind of texting back and forth that evening and one of the songs I wound up singing was half about him…but I survived anyway. I didn’t tell him I liked him again or anything. Win.
Now I have to sleep.