Music for a found harmattan

A harmattan is a dry, dusty, easterly wind on the West African coast. And no, that has nothing to do with anything, I was just surprised there was a name for it. Anywho, I think I had some things to say, but I forgot what it was, this seems to happen a lot. Anyways, I guess I'll just keep on writing down words until I get somewhere cool, I bet this is what God must've felt like.

Oh! I remember! I want to be a dad. I don't mean to put down my own father by saying this, I love that old guy, he's so old, but I feel like I wasn't given as much advice as I needed. I kind of wanted someone to sit down with me a few years ago and be like, "You'll make mistakes, it'll happen, and nothing will change that. You won't know what you want, you won't know what you want to do with your life, who want to be with, who you want to be friends with, and the thing is that nobody really knows. Everyone's mostly just playing it by ear, and you have to, too. So you'll make mistakes, and there's no changing that, the important part is after." I mean, that's advice that I would've loved to have before. I mean, I was told to pick yourself back up, but it was never really drilled into me that it's okay to fall in the first place. But the thing is, the people my dad told me made mistakes, the people with tattoos and piercings and everything, they seem happy. Or not happy, but alive. They're uninhibited. I mean, they got so used to people staring that they don't care if people are staring. They're the ones that make-out in the middle of the street, that jump into each others arms, that show their emotion, really and truly. And I respect that, I needed to be told to be that uninhibited, not to stuff up my emotions, because, really, I have trouble showing them. I don't really know where I'm going with this, but I don't know, I've gotten a bit too self-conscious. I'm going to try to change this.