Jazz without the swagger.

Stream of Consciousness: Jimmy Joyce style, take 1.

I've had this song in my head.
It's been buzzing and bopping since before I can remember. Since before, a while ago. Some time. Lapsed.
It's like jazz, without the swagger. Or blues with no heartache.
I know this song like it's mine, like it should be mine. I've played this song, I know I have.
And then, when it's there, in my fingers like I've got it-- It's gone and then back again, awkward as ever.

I gave up on the song once.
I just quit, stopped listening. Filled my ears with dialogues and noise.
Something constant, neverchanging.
People talking and talking. No hearing, just talking at, to, or over-- but never with.
Constant.

So it's back to the song, that I know I know. I know it. It found me. The song in the air.

It's mine.