This ain't a movie, nah

I have spent a lifetime being a careful student of music that moves me. I have cried along, belted it out in the car, and hummed along in the shower. I have been making mixes since the days of cassete tapes and have long held the opinion that a really great mix is perhaps the best gift any one person can give.
I have nursed a secret fantasy of being a rock star (a fantasy I sort of live out every day in my daily one woman show know as English Class). There are some songs that I have loved for so long they have become like life itself, like my bones and my hands, like the mash-up opera in my head that never fades out completly but carries me thourgh the fire and sailing on the high winds of this mortal coil.
There are voices that resonate in my cells and in my counsciousness both-- that I dream in and that I imagine I might sound like if I practiced enough.
I f music can give me hope and offer the rare balm of solace in this dirty-minded and unjust world-- well that is something, idn't it!
To the east the sun is rising again-- all pink and bold in the sky. itunes is playing me a lovely mix-- quiet and pretty-- and as I mutter along (right in the thick of love, sometimes we get scik of love) musing on sunrise's inevidibility John Lgend is right
maybe we should take it slow.... it's more confusing every day.. no it'snot a fantasy...maybe we should take it slow