i think

I think I wouldn’t like music as much as I do if electricity wasn’t a constant hum in my blood, in my ears and bones. 

I think I don’t actually like the eternal buzzing and murmuring of racing electrons. I think it bothers some part of me. The part that was meant to keep watch over the fire at night. The night watch part of me and how I was made. 


I think I find listening to music on a record player so decadent because it is the closest I can get to listening to the instruments as they were made to. Rather than a transfer of energy through means I can’t hope to understand. 


I think I am not really a hipster the way these words paint me. I think I just miss the water and listening to the wind and waves. Miss the rustling of the leaves and the crash the water makes when it hits the shore. 


I think I was sorta made for the wild. Not in the hunt and gather kind of way, more so in the way of keeping company with the trees. Less of the droning of innovation and “progress.” 


I think I miss the tress for reasons and at depths I may never grasp. It’s something that sits heavy in my heart and all that’s left is to endure it. 


I think I’ve had a hard few months. It’s been every trigger and pressure point I have all pushed in succession. It’s been painful. I don’t much like this version of myself, but in the same breath I can’t help but meet myself with oodles of warmth and compassion. Because while I don’t like being this version of myself I can’t help but see the redemption in the repetition. 


I think, perhaps, I may just be okay… one day, maybe tomorrow.  

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