I don't really think there is a need to write about it but something is changing. Maybe it's just a feeling, a passing notion that will fade like a melancholic wish leaving only bitter aftertaste. Maybe. Maybe not. It's hard to express your feeling when you do not actually know what you're feeling. You only know that there IS something nagging you, wanting to push you in a direction and pull you out of the stagnation you've been slowly drowning in. So guess it might be a good feeling.
Last sunday was... well, awesome. I spent the whole day listening to music, something I haven't done in months really. Music was slowly leeking out of my life, leaving me wondering what the hell is happening. I thought 'shit, there were times when the ONLY thing you did was listen to music, laying on the couch, doing nothing but listening'. It was sad, because, even if I'm no great musician, not an amateur even, music was something that defined my existence in my own understanding of myself. And it started to disappear. Until it came back, last sunday.
It was as if I picked up my sturdy RBX for the very first time and played the line form 'Tank!', smiling like a little kid and even running to my mom to tell her that 'look, I can play it now!'. The fact that she was utterly unamused didn't matter at all. I played it. I played 'Tank!'. And it happened again last sunday (except for the 'running to my mom' part, some things you do only once and say 'that's enough son').
I do not mean to sound overly optimistic here, mind that. Sitting and listening to Led Zeppelin IV for the very first time in months, it might not mean anything. I might wake up tomorrow and the music might be absent again. But this time I'll be at least wishing for 'her' to stay while falling asleep. Because I care again. Even if only for this single evening.
Last sunday was... well, awesome. I spent the whole day listening to music, something I haven't done in months really. Music was slowly leeking out of my life, leaving me wondering what the hell is happening. I thought 'shit, there were times when the ONLY thing you did was listen to music, laying on the couch, doing nothing but listening'. It was sad, because, even if I'm no great musician, not an amateur even, music was something that defined my existence in my own understanding of myself. And it started to disappear. Until it came back, last sunday.
It was as if I picked up my sturdy RBX for the very first time and played the line form 'Tank!', smiling like a little kid and even running to my mom to tell her that 'look, I can play it now!'. The fact that she was utterly unamused didn't matter at all. I played it. I played 'Tank!'. And it happened again last sunday (except for the 'running to my mom' part, some things you do only once and say 'that's enough son').
I do not mean to sound overly optimistic here, mind that. Sitting and listening to Led Zeppelin IV for the very first time in months, it might not mean anything. I might wake up tomorrow and the music might be absent again. But this time I'll be at least wishing for 'her' to stay while falling asleep. Because I care again. Even if only for this single evening.
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