It's not a love song at all. Sometimes you really have to listen.
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I decided to wait for Beatrice & Virgil which is what my father would do, wait for the paperback. He's practical like that. I can wait.
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When I was seventeen Jeff ran over me in his VW van, which should have caused me harm but did not. Instead it crushed my harmonica and left me only with a slight bruise, rectangular, near my hip where it had been in my pocket. How is that possible? I cannot think of a time since that night that I played harmonica with any conviction. I was never any good.
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4 comments:
Is Jeff your brother? Running me over seems like something my brother would have done if he'd had the nerve. Harmonica is difficult - I have one in my desk drawer (Bluesband by Hohner International) but have never gotten any good at it.
Apart from the fact he was always trying to get me to let him touch my boobs, Jeff was very much like a brother, probably the closest thing I ever had to one. I always wanted a brother when I was a teenager but this was based on the assumption that brothers were people who protected you from boys that wanted to touch your boobs, I guess, and not people who would drive so recklessly. Still. Jeff was pretty close. I think I may have had the same harmonica, key of C.
Your writing challenges me on many levels, maybe it's because in my life I let my emotions guide me.
Spindrift, that is probably the best compliment ever and I appreciate it very much.
I do not think it is a mistake to let the emotional brain guide you, particularly if this has worked well for you in the past. When I try to *think* my way through emotional situations I always end up having to go back and fix mistakes. Maybe your emotions are a qualified guide.
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