Nineteen

Last One, For The Road

 

John Mayer Banksy

John Mayer Banksy

 

 

Little Erika, reduced to which while hearing John Mayer

Little Erika, reduced to which while hearing John Mayer

 

 

 

I take the train home today… I’ll be home for a few days before I head to Northern California for the SRHS running camp.  I’m excited to see everyone, I think I’ll stay for a night or two and then go further north to visit my Grandma.  I can’t wait to see her, and relax with her, and enjoy the life and the amazing air up there.  Humboldt is the most relaxing place that I can think to easily escape to and I plan on staying up there as long as I can.  I can hardly wait… I just want to get up there and read and play cards and go on hikes and make art and hang out with my Grandma!

So before I go,  I have to post one more John Mayer thingy and then….. and then… drum roll…  I’m stopping myself from blogging about him anymore.  It’s may last one, for the road. You’ve all heard about him for months, and I seriously have this freakish love of the guy and I’m starting to weird myself out.  I can’t help it these days and I need to recover from my addiction.  Admitting it, apparently, is the first step towards recovery.  My last hurrah is this video and then… no more.  

Check out this amazing piece. I. AM. SPEECHLESS.  HE’S AMAZING! I have overwhelming love for this boy.  He’s, he’s just…. aaa…

His music makes my heart swell and my head happy, and my body responds with lightness of breath and of foot and of heart.   His music makes me feel like I could swoon yet could run really, really quickly; like my heart is a heavy sponge dripping with Martinelli’s sparkling apple juice;  as if any ailment I have mends itself upon hearing his guitar; and as if I’m a little girl, frustrated at the depth of thoughts and lack of vocabulary to color them.

 

I melt like maple syrup over hot pancakes when he plays.  

 

The End.

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