Lily

Lily looked out the window listfully. It was beginning to get dark and slightly fresh in the valley, and the summer promised to pick up and go elsewhere.
If I´m a songwriter, why is it so hard for me to publish my songs? Do I have to admit that I´m a dysfunctional composer? Well, I am.
Lily kept losing herself in eternal variations: the sincerity of alternative options had become an enemy for her decades ago. And when she slipped into certain chord progressions which would better be described as trapdoors, the drive went from positive to negative and she´d stop playing altogether.
Lily cringed recalling that sullen, all too familiar reaching-for-the-power-button-moment which recurred too often... could it be that hidden forces were conspiring against her with her own creepy unbeknownst aid?
Maybe a cigarette...
And who ever guaranteed that, if you´re lucky or unlucky enough to have one, your vocation will be fully functional? Having a vocation is only that: an inner calling. There's a number of choices that don't quite come through but don't violate the clause of responsibility towards a patriotic or spiritual mission either. You can pretend you don´t hear, or answer with complying sweetness and then do as you please, or act like a fucked-up teenager, or be authentically docile...But nothing you do is guaranteed to work. Even with the most perfect machines, the result is the result... of much else.
No, a vocation is no guarantee of functionality. Maybe for some it´s more like a steaming pizza right on the other side of a 7-foot-tall, 7500-volt electric fence...
Lily had stopped counting the total songs she had almost fully composed, a while ago. Far from being a source of pride, this futile attempt at feeling historically productive only added to the anguish. The thing that stumped her the most was how, while the self consuming star of a song was irradiating its light, coming into being, sometimes for a few minutes and sometimes for days or weeks, her energy had no end, and she was in love with the song, in another dimension, let´s tritely say. And then, after a while and due to partly unknown factors, she usually couldn´t listen past the 20th second, as if the song had let her down. There had to be something she was missing. It was a depression, it was the classic STEOS moment (Skip To End Of Song)... It was Judas and Christ at the end of time... and then, not happy with that either, even if who would be, give me a break, after a while it was sometimes all wonderful again, and ooh! and hey I'm a frikkin genius and shiiiiat what a brains and sensitivity I carry... to the point of song completion! What the hell?
Oh Lily, Lily thought.
Oh Lily.