So I'm sitting by the piano trying to play beautiful sad songs, because that's what I do when I don't feel my best. And most of the time (as they say, music calms the soul and umm tames the savage beast whatever) they do make me feel better, when my fingers run up and down the keys and my body sways gently together with the rhythm of the music. All alone, I am at ease. Lost in a world of my own, time stands still and I'm breathing steadily without awful thoughts running across my head. But this time, my fingers are stiff and cold. It has been years since I last sat down for hours, squinting my eyes to read notes, flipping pages frantically for pieces I've played over and over again, my maid could hum the tune. And now when I try and try to play these lovely sad songs I can't. Eventually after all those years of hard work and effort, without practice they're slowly forgotten. 

Listening to: So Close - Jon McLaughlin 

(as I always do)