I can pretend

I don't know if it's dumb or conceited or what, but listening to the silly recordings of the songs I wrote last year has been weirdly comforting lately. Maybe it's 'cause I miss the keys more than I want to acknowledge. Maybe it's 'cause I doubt I'll ever write songs again. Maybe it's 'cause keyboards are pricey here and I'll just have to pretend for an undetermined amount of time that I'm playing. And I miss those blinds and the pine trees on the other side of them.