i am free-writing. i am free-writing to blues music. i am listening to the blues. oh, how i love the blues. why? i don’t know. it touches me in a place i thought was dead. ha-ha no it doesn’t. but maybe it does. who knows? not me. i know nothing. nothing except that i am freewriting… and am listening to the blues. that i love the blues… and why?
i feel like the world is better. in that moment. as though i am someone else, somewhere else. somewhere back in time. someone with a simpler, happier life. someone who can fully enjoy the small things in life. somewhere where everything is beautiful and i am, too. where i can share myself – my burdens and my heart. my laughter. my smile. my winsome character. myself.
i feel love in it. i think i do. i am unsure what love is, sure, who isn’t? but i really feel like i feel love there. love or some other such intense emotion. an intense, positive emotion. usually positive, anyway. it doesn’t have to be. not always. it can be filled with melancholia and nostalgia and passionate tears, too. and you know what? that’s okay. because that’s good. helps keeps things in perspective. and all that can be beautiful, too. wistful yearning and desires. can be beautiful things. poetic things. musical things. swaying sounds to a slow dreamy cadence. your insides want to move along with it. to claim the rhythm and become one with it (one with everything). to close your eyes and evanesce into oblivion. an oblivion that contains only that movement. that and emotion. that and love. and poetry. beautiful things. it’s all the same, really. love and poetry and beautiful things, that is. it can all send your hear soaring. can make your life seem beige in comparison. to want nothing more than that but at the moment knowing no other reality and thus not having that though, not in that context, anyway.
it is to think to yourself, this is it. and to really mean it. to know how blessed you are to be exposed to such a wonderful thing. and to be able to have such extraordinary access. and to not be terribly picky about what sounds exactly have this effect on you.
but sometimes you are. and that is very unfortunate.