El Condor Pasa (If I Could)

Like a damn rattlesnake the melody of El Condor Pasa reaches out and bites after its mandolin whispers.

Susan Jacobs, you are a God among music coordinators.  Did you pick this track for the slow marching rhythm, so comically close to elephant-like?  

The instrumentation here might be more nail, more snail, more street, than spider or nail or forest.  Hence, "If I only could!" But let's not get technical.

There was a period in college where I took to wandering, around and after the time Eve died.  Through the arboretum, around Franklin Street, and South Campus, that God forsaken hellscape. I talked to strangers and watched discount movies and biked about with Ratatat and didn't check in with people.  I was a-wandering, ya know.  And then, one morning, I woke up in a park in London.  Third Parties will tell you I have appeared Grown Up ever since.  I drew a circle around what I wanted.  I can't keep up with how readily it moves, but its lines are getting darker. I search for reasons to abandon resentments. Sometimes I worry that I'm too much like my parents.  Most of the time I worry that I'm not enough.

To be isolated is not always to be lonely.  It's the only way to know what, if anything, we're missing.  And there is no higher serenity than smiling to one's self.