ever be in that mood where you want to learn how to expertly play the fiddle, stand straddling the peak of a church during a tornado-warning-esque lightning-storm, skies dark and unnatural green, clothes torn and ragged, wind wailing through the cracks in walls all around,
and just play wild, reckless, senseless fiddling, arrythmic and dischordant, music orthagonal to man's scales, self-consistent with a consistency akin to pop rock pudding, cackling madly in the cracking sky
No? Just me?