One guy started a conversation with me by telling me that he was 47 years old and planned to retire at 50. He sells insurance in 27 states, blah blah blah... he was so annoying, crass, and overly self promoting that you couldn't help but like the guy. Entertaining as hell - not because he was trying to be and although I laughed... he wasn't funny but he just kept me guessing... I had no idea what was going to come out of his mouth next.
I of course verbally probed him. I couldn't resist. He actually gave me some advice - more on that later.
At walmart, while looking for some blue bell homemade vanilla (for that July 4 homemade ice cream fix) I came to the conclusion that I can chill the fuck out because there isn't really anyone other than myself that I have to prove anything to. I guess I've been learning that over a while now. It's been a hard lesson to learn.
I unloaded the groceries and afterward got the urge to practice guitar. I really never play songs or anything, I just have a blast at fucking around. Coming up with new rhythms, patterns, and repeating progressions until I make something interesting and eventually repeat them so much they get old.
A few thoughts surrounding the music and my desire to set up a dedicated hard drive for session recording but I'll remain fixed in context of the events. I laid down with the guitar on my chest, playing, playing... and playing. Finally, I laid there, looking at the ceiling in the abrupt silence. Euphoric. I felt like I was experiencing the after glow from making love.