That’s what I was going to write about: Letters.
This past Sunday I wrote two letters on an old Smith-Corona typewriter. Neither of them were long. One single-spaced page a piece. But they were good.
I really needed some time to scream on the page. It was a hot and frustrating weekend. The type of weekend when nothing is really wrong, but frustrating.
One of the frustrating things that has been plaguing me is music. And not just the blaring of music from the multiple iPhones guys in the house have (that has become a pet-peeve of mine,) but of the songs stuck in my head; those treacherous ear worms. It is not the repetition of one particular song that has my mind trying to push away a specific sound or lyric. It is all the songs written and song by the same artist!
For years and…
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