little boxes...

R is lamenting over growing projects going wrong. What happened to all
your apple trees, he says to me. He laments about all his students not
following his guidance as fully as they could. Still, he gets angry
about stuff that happened in the past.

I meet conor, we choose a load of new songs to learn to play together.
Its stuff that is really quite difficult to play and will demand a lot
of practice and attention from me.

I am feeling sad and confused about relationships, so I talk to
sophie. She encourages me and makes some useful suggestions regarding
things I can do to act on it. There's no point in doing nothing.

We are making little boxes to put stuff in. My little box is cardboard
and is foldable. For some reason, the box, even though its made out of
cardboard, seems to make everything better. It has nice curvy writing
on all the sides, cut-outs, and bits of string forming the shapes of
the letters.

I am at a gig, watching this female singer with a band. She is very
sexy. She is singing very emotive music.  She is wearing clothes that
accentuate the beautiful curves of her athletic body, and now she
takes her top off and is singing topless, and at the top of her voice,
a wailing lamenting kind of eastern arabic music. The crowd are loving
it. Her sexyness is accentuated by the fact that all the other
musicians in the band are men.