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Reflection Train ( Part Three )

I was under no illusions that I'd ever be in the same league as my heroes, not least because, though I could hold a harmony, I would never be a proper singer, and most of my mates were already a far better player and songwriter. But surely the hours spent with knitted brow over the fretboard couldn't be said to be wasted, could they?

Admittedly I'd earned decent cash from music over the years but all musicians hang on to the remote possibility that could change at any moment, simply because music industry here is so bleak and uncertain. That discovery lurks around the next corner.

A good question, and one I'd been pondering. I didn't have an answer yet but what was certain was that, without anything else in my life, music was going to have to fill a big part of it, and that meant getting back to the flow.

'Aye, you're right, boy. It's just that sometimes I get so worried wondering what happen to you in KL and since your dad is not supporting the family anymore, I'll just have to depend on my three wonderful kids. You play your guitar if you want to. Now drink the left-over barley before bed.'
She didn't say left-over really. I made that bit up. But I did have a glass of barley. And then I go to bed. And the following day I did feel much better. When crazy isn't crazy anymore: Life balance and insanity. A job well done but still a long to go...

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