Steam Top Mountain Top

I dismantled my p.a. last night. I tried using it for the first time since the last poetry reading and it didn't work. I took it apart and looked at its gears. I pressed things and pulled a wire and shook its loose part out. I looked for it, but it went missing. I guess it was missing. I stared at the innards for a while longer and plugged it in. It's strange how sometimes just opening something up can change its entire reality. There was no more static, there was no more sound. It was clear and I did sing. I turned the reverb up and sounded like Jim James. I wrote a song about growing up and learning about life from my mother. Learning about love and about songs and about Elton John. I want to finish all of my songs or some of my songs and play a show for my best friends. I'm thinking a show for about 5-10 people. J, S, M, A, F, B, Z, C, A, R, you are all invited. This is a closed event, guests are not allowed to bring friends. I'm not sure when this will take place, but I'm itching to play songs for my friends because they're for my friends. Is this self promotion if you don't allow anyone other than your close friends to attend? I don't really think so. There was a guy at a house I was at last night who was a big time self promoter. He showed me his art after he asked if I wanted to see it, then he read me a slam poem after he asked if I wanted to hear it. That's cool, man. I could never do something like that. Maybe I'll be a poor artist who writes things and doesn't help anyone. A song can't change you, lady. Can it? Can a poem? I had a discussion with A about altruism last night. We disagreed. I don't believe it exists, but what do I know. We're all theoretical anyhow. I don't have to decide anything. I can fix it just by letting some of the pressure go out of the screw holes. Sometimes that's all it takes.