I've been writing a ton and feel good only for the brief moment after something is completed. Otherwise, I'm pretty miserable during the whole present experience of it.

Music is better because the entire process is pleasent. I love the piano and how caressing it is.

I do wish I played piano eariler just because how distracting it is too. I can play at a time like this and weep without the tears or despair.

I sometimes dream of a touch that could take me out of its grasp but am completely fine with it never coming.

Like my cold room is a melody and there is nobody out there. Yet I’ll play until the birds sing, and their chirps feel like applause.

I’m here to be evil, and yet the absence social media makes me feel produces notes, not sentences.

You're right, words are often so very cruel. It occurs to me now that maybe we never spoke. You don't have arms, so, allow me to play then for you. Somehow we grew up together and I never noticed.