Wow. Anyone who knows me well enough will tell you that I'd rather have a Piano than a house. And man, is that true. Who ever invented this mash of strings, wood, hammers and ivory, you are a genius, a legend. You just can't beat the sound of a piano, you just can't.
And here is it: tomorrow, I'm getting my very own, REAL piano, complete with stings, wood, hammers and ivory, delivered to my front door. And it's being given to me. wow.
I don't know if the people who are giving this piano to me realise how they've made a childhood, teenagehood, and technically adulthood (seeing as I'm now 18) dream come true. I've always wanted a real piano, much more than I want a house.
Cecil said that she could imagine me dragging my grand piano from street to street, dressed in dirty clothes, tired and homeless, but happy. Happy because I'd got my piano with me. And I'd sit there and play it till my fingers bled, morning, noon and night.
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