Sometimes, I can get so caught in the idiocy of other people’s behavior, I let it affect my mood. I have to stop and purposely refocus and conjure up imagery that is pleasant, like a child flying a kite on a beach, or a moonlit night, or the mountains with just a little fog hanging over the top. I have to realize that “this” (life) can’t be all there is. Thank God for that. I am sure that peace awaits.

This afternoon, I was particularly melancholy and upset. I decided to record a song, “,” which I have sung since I was a teenager. I felt better. “Like a bird, whose prison walls has flown, I’ll fly away.”

I’ll fly away, as in a hot air balloon rising, as in a swallow on the wind, as in a rocket to the moon! What a pleasant thought that there branded title an end to earthly trials, physical pain, and mental suffering.

Music has always been a good “outlet,” as it is sometimes called. It is good to know that I am not the only person to ever (heavily) consider the matters of life and death, and what life is, or should mean, in the interim. Country/Western themes often explore life/death topics, as does folk music. My father called that kind of music, “crying music.” There is a lot to cry about in this life. He could have told you that. The people you expect will love you, don’t. The most kindness you will ever find in your life, may come from a total stranger.

Tomorrow, I shall count my blessings. Sunday is always a good day to take stock of things and think about the hereafter.

I am always happy “to meander to the tune of a different drummer.” Those are my thoughts for this evening.

Patricia Cummings

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