Cracking knuckles

I'm just a shorter version of my brain.

A stockier, less tall, less attractive version of my brain.

My brain is taller, just as charming, and more alert.

Our bodies, being the instrument by which we live, are wretched things. All those joints, muscles, hairs, the rolling and rolling.

I need but my eyes, ears, vocal chords and mouth. I don't even give a damn about my nose.

My body throws mud on my brain's windshield, making it rest, making it rub the little small hard things out of my tear ducts in the morning.

All the sneezing, illness, yawning, blinking, blinking, breathing.

My brain exists inside this otherwise miserable apparatus, guiding it around in a dangerous and unknown environment, constantly taking care of it and pandering to its every need.

The only joy I derive directly from my body is the way my fingers are guided into making sounds on a fretboard. The way music comes from my hands.

Otherwise, it's constantly being reminded of slight discomfort from my keys not sitting well in my pocket, or an itch on my arm, or a stuffy nose.

Most of my day is spent reacting to feedback about how my body wants me to slightly change position, scratch something, eat something, or rest.

In fact, I think part of growing up is learning to have almost no reaction to the dull aches and pains of everyday living and moving. We learn to numb our brains to the small nuisances. We experience pain and discomfort so regularly that we turn it off. Our brains turn it off.

Ever been sick? Of course. Notice how sensitive you feel to every discomfort? How your back tingles and you can feel the very shirt on your back? That's what we could be feeling everyday, but it is learned to suppress all that excess information.

"yes, but love your body!"

Umm, no. Not today. I wish I could find a zipper in the back of my body, and let the "brain" me walk around a bit. No more shifting, creaky knees, itchy arm, yawning, achy feet, or cracking of knuckles. And, no need to slow down to sleep, or pine for sleep while trying to get something done.

I am a short version of my brain. A short, short version.

Coolest email ever.

Just about made my week...

"Hello, my name is Kevin and my English teacher played your song
"Ophelia" for the class last year. I really enjoyed it and I've been
trying to get it somehow (legally because I don't want to cheat you
out of money and I understand that you are not a very famous person...
yet ha) because i want to share it with some of my friends who are not
in the English class I had. I don't have much money to spare, I was
wondering if I could work something out as maybe a cheaper donation
for just the one song. Please email me back whenever you have the
time. Thank you.
-Kevin"

"Kevin,

No need to pay. Here you go. Hope you enjoy it, man. Who is your English teacher? I'd like to give him/her a thank you. I think it's really great he/she used my music when talking about Hamlet!

Best,
John"

Wow - full circle! My song, stemming from HS English, now used to teach it! What a wonderful honor!