When You're a Grown Up ...

... You get to sing your own love songs into the void and watch them become about something new that has not yet begun.

Today was a great day at the 2010 Ukulele Festival. I am in awe of this woman, who called me "amazing" today (I feel so unworthy, because, wow, what a force). I have admired her (and her uncle Bill Tapia) since hearing them for the first time at last year's uke fest. Anything I can do to get closer to Elvis can't be bad:

http://www.myspace.com/mihanahawaii

Many kisses and alohas were exchanged, and it makes me know I have to do some Hawaiian writing soon. The music is wrought with expressive possibility.

I'm also glad she and others that are geekily musical got to hear my odd love songs today, which I think have stopped being about what they were about (a very singular person that so may people struggled through with me) and have moved into other sheepy pastures.

Also, I'd like to extend a personal note (too personal? Maybe there's no such thing) to someone that is making some bad decisions with my heart lately:

I hope you'll do right, as you suggest you will. I am also "fond," and I definitely deserve way more credit than you've given me, and at least half a say. It was just the very, very beginning, and you quit. But it's not too late, I assure you. There are way more powerful things in me than that. I stand behind calling you a coward, and I hope you can prove I was right about you before instead of giving up on yourself and assuming you're, metaphorically speaking, "obese with a cane" in my and others' eyes. I could be more eloquent about it if you would actually talk to me, but that's what it is for right now.

I don't need more material for yet another bittersweet "Could've been" novel, I assure you.

I don't think even you think it's 100% done.