Opulence is not my forté. I like opera but my core is blues. You have twine and a stick and the will to make some noise. There’s your zither. Sometimes you just need to go to the shop and get a new guitar. Whatever your circumstance is, you cannot stop. I’ve been on pause for about a month letting my flamethrower refuel. There’s a slog to the step and a disinterest in the noise. But there is still a memory of the blue note: the elevated frequency. The battles can distract you from it and weigh down its importance in your immediate cause. But to remember it is to return to the pain of its pursuit. Re-establishing connection with it can be all consuming or frustrating to the point of abandon. What you do for money is your job. What you do for you is your life. …Back to the gunfight with a rusty knife I go.