And that makes three

I just want to play. That’s what I said. I just want to play. It doesn’t always work out so well, though, in the end. People are fickle beasts and it may end with my moving away, after all. Doesn’t have to turn sour, you know. But it is what it is, as I said. It is what it is. I still just want to play. And play I shall. Pounding away with the empty tock of the metronome in the dark, listening, learning, letting the muscle memory take over. And ride it out. Because… yes… I just want to play.