Dream of: 22 April 2019 "Writing Spanish Songs"

I have met a fellow (around 30 years old). He and I decide to make music together. I fetch something for him which is no more that a small, broken piece of thin, brown wood, like wall paneling. He breaks off a piece of the wood to use as his musical instrument. I still need to find an instrument for myself. I think I will play the flute and I think the other fellow will play a guitar. Before we even begin, however, I realize that I really cannot play the flute well, and I decide that I do not want to go through with the project.  I decide to abandon the duo.

He and I end up in a bar where he sometimes plays music by himself. I sit and listen. After a while, I realize that this bar is in Mexico, and that I am stuck here. I have been riding a bus and this bar is inside the bus station. I have a layover here and I am going to be here for about ten hours. I have some pillows.

As I sit here, I start thinking that I had not wanted to play music with the fellow because he plays music in English. I have decided that I would like to play music, but that I would like to write some Spanish songs and play those. My Spanish is good enough so that I am sure that I can write songs in Spanish. After I write the songs, I think I will sing my own works in Spanish.

Contemplating this proposition, I sit in the bar throughout the day and drink perhaps ten beers, but they do not seem to affect me. I know that my bus will leave at about 9 pm. Toward evening, the bar becomes more crowded. A Mexican band enters and begins playing music, but the band seems bad. I think that I will become much more adept at differentiating between good and bad Spanish music, now that I will be writing my own Spanish songs.

In my mind, I compose a Spanish song which I like. I can just imagine standing in front of people and singing the song.

Abpout 8:30, I suddenly realize that it is time for me to go. I stand up and walk out of the bar without even leaving a tip. I think about walking back inside and leaving a tip, but I do not want to fool with it. I do not even know who my waitress was. I decide to continue on my way toward my bus. 

Commentary of 27 April 2019

Spending the day in a Mexican bar and writing Spanish songs does not seem like such a bad way to pass the time. Standing in front of an audience and singing those songs would surely be a kick. 

Copyright 2019 by luciddreamer2k@gmail.com