Dear November,
Thanksgiving: today. Turkey, butter, giving clothes and hot chocolate to the homeless 45 minutes from here. Wanting to take a nap but not taking a nap. Ordering gifts online. All else is conventional, and I haven't had a conventional Thanksgiving, in, like, ever. Our relatives don't really visit. Either they're in the cold Midwest or half across the globe where it's summer. Also where they don't celebrate Thanksgiving.
I feel like there's so much going on right now that it's almost criminal to stop and forget it. But that's what I did today. I neglected that drum piece I have to memorize, I didn't go on Tumblr, and I watched a bunch of trumpet videos on Youtube that made me seriously question my life choices. I love the trumpet. I love the sound, probably even more than I do the one of the French horn. Why did I switch over? I thought it was pretty and I didn't want to stay with the pack and before I knew it I had fallen in love. The thing is, I love playing the French horn. It's just when I listen to it, I feel like there's so much more potential. I'm addicted to that brassy sound, and I don't think I'll ever recover.
Why is it that I always end up talking about music? Sorry.
Sincerely, Esther
P.S. Happy Thanksgiving. I figure there has to be some American part of you that you secretly hate but at the same time indulge in.
YOU ARE READING
dear november
Non-FictionThis is a compilation of letters I wrote daily during the month of November, starting November fourth, skipping one day? two days? and ending on November 30th. Originally done on Polyvore, by @writingtips' and @smileylina 's suggestion, who got the...
