A guy woke up every day to the thoughts of hitting his chin. He cursed the thoughts and tried to go about his day but it followed him like a bad stink and everyday, at some point, he clenched his fist and punched his chin. Sometimes he made it quite red. He sort of loved it as he did it and then felt horrible and stupid for hours after. Looking himself in the mirror cursing himself, wishing he wasn’t as he was. There were many books available about his condition. Titles like Stop Hitting Yourself in The Face, Hit Free Like Me, The Secrets of Not Hitting Yourself In The Face. He read them all, but was unsuccessful in making any change. For his birthday one year, he bought a ukulele. After exhausting Tiptoe Through The Tulips, Somewhere Over The Rainbow and Tiny Bubbles he started writing his own. Guess what he wrote about? And it changed things, he managed to leave his chin alone though soon he noticed he was hitting the wall more and more. He had to learn how to repair holes by mudding and sanding but still this was preferable to growing beards to hide his sore chin. People who knew him earlier would congratulate him on his complexion, but he knew inside, nothing really changed except for the fact that music seems to make difference and he wondered why since it didn’t have anything to do with thinking.