Dear Joe

You remember that morning, the melody?  As usual, they pour out of you when you listen.  You try not to hear, but it’s everywhere.  No matter the tempo, the words are there.  No matter the words, you hear the notes.

A simple idea.  It wasn’t crazy.  See the your future, then walk to it.  If you’re not walking toward it, you’re walking away.  Time never stops.

There’s an unsavory faction afoot in your choir — the kind of voices who aren’t your friends.  Don’t listen anymore.  No need to decipher the reason; they lie.

You’re not going to impress yourself with bits, big deal.  People need bits.  Stack a few up so you can buy yourself some time to sing.