following my recent upgrade to a new and better guitar, i started digging out old songs that i used to play—songs that i’ve listened to and liked enough to play, enough to record for people and so on. well you know how these things are. digging out songs led to digging out covers i’ve recorded, which led to digging out original songs written, which led to the growing pile of half-songs that i didn’t have enough inspiration or talent to complete.

which led to the inspirations behind them all, to the memories, to the songs that trigger senseless and random floating emotions. and soon i’ll find myself kneeling in the rain outside for no apparent reason crying, “why, why, why!”

but i should really get back to those songs. i dug out a mixtape as well, one that i had made for someone. clearly i didn’t give it away, or i wouldn’t have it.

why yes, i do realise i am a very clever person.

either way, i played it, and every song (if i may say so myself) was so well-chosen, so emotive, so deep—or so i would have people believe, at least before getting to know me better—and then suddenly “banana phone” comes on.

wha…?

maybe that’s why i didn’t give this mixtape away.