I’ve been enjoying quiet mornings lately;
occasional passing cars,
—not that you get much of it downtown.
A lot has been going on lately with the energy of the world but I can’t think back to a calmer time.
I guess those times are the ones that a day can go by and you wouldn’t even realize it. Everything’s just so still—and nice.
I have those days often–though I may not always realize it.
At the same time, my days have also been spent in mental turmoil.
I guess I’m just at the point in my life where things can get confusing—especially when you’re on your own.
After writing my last post, it got me to thinking about home—-and music.
When I think of a physical location, no sense of home comes to mind other than my apartment where I can peacefully sleep at night.
When I think of something that brings me a sense of calmness, security, familiarity, and assurance, I think of music.
All of the songs that I’ve listened to throughout my life and loved, bring me back to those times that I would listen to them the most.
Though I don’t live in the same towns and houses any more, have the same friends, family, and pets, I have these songs to bring me back to those times.
Not all of these memories are the greatest but they’re very much alive within me and the songs I surrounded myself with.
And whenever I need to come back home, I just turn the speaker up a little louder, and listen to the words and melodies that have comforted me all these years.
So, maybe I don’t have a home as normal as other people may,
but I think I can say I have one.
Other than that, I’ve been wanting to write more on here—another home for my words.
I’ve been so caught up in structure and consistancy that I turn myself off from writing.
But it’s nice to write on here.
I think back to a post I had made almost 2 years ago, while still on the east coast, mentioning the weather and how I wondered if I’d miss the cold this time of year.
And I do.
I wonder how all of the colored leaves look in Pennsylvania, and how maybe my grandmother won’t go apple picking without me, or maybe she will.
It’d be nice–to drive through all of that.
Maybe I’ll take a trip up north soon.
Until then, I wait.
For the time to pass me by,
as I sit,
For who knows what.
I’ll be seeing you.