Sometimes I have this reoccurring dream that I’m about to perform an incredible piano concerto at a recital. Except, as I sit down I realize I have no fucking clue how to play the piano (actually though, I have no clue). I sit there, frozen, and debate whether or not I should try to wing it and sound like a mentally handicapped goat walking over bubble wrap, or if I should just stand up and try to make a joke out of it.
And then I wake up, so the self-argument is a moot point.
That is all. Just had an urge to share this nugget of philosophy with you. Happy hump day.