If only I could play the piano...

It's been a few months since I sat in my old room, 4 stories up, with the window open and heard the sound of music coming through my window. That day I realized there was a music school across the alley from us, and I turned everything down so that I could here those notes coming into my room. They made sense that day, as though I could have imagined myself playing the notes on a piano, even though I can only dream of playing in my mind. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I wish I could hear those notes again.

"There's a battle ahead, many battles are lost..."

Yeah, that's the truth right there. I wish I had the same resolve while sober as I do while drunk. Last night made a lot of sense again. That's a frightening prospect. I stood at the edge of dock, and if you position yourself just right, it feels like you're floating across the Sound, with nothing holding you up but a few pieces of wood and nothing holding you back but the limit of your imagination. Okay, okay, so maybe one other itsy-bitsy fact held me back: I can't swim. A lot of people are baffled by that. I'm not. I just never learned. I can't play the piano either. How come people laugh when I say I can't swim but they don't think it's weird when I say I can't play the piano?

Anyways, the city looked so clear yesterday from where I stood. My head was really clear too. Everything made sense, yet this morning all of the decisions I made about my future last night are lost in an empty bottle somewhere and I can't seem to find where I put it. The bottle also had my resolves and courage to do what's necessary.

Wait, I think I see it. It's in the middle of the road smashed into a million pieces.