Always one foot on the ground.
And by protecting my heart truly,
I got lost in the sounds.
I hear in my mind all of these voices
I hear in my mind all of these words
I hear in my mind all of this music
And it breaks my heart
And it breaks my heart."
-Fidelity- Regina Spektor
Again, I find it to be Saturday morning.
Rain is falling from a distant grey sky and the Coach House is humming.
Sweatpants and socks and a Columbia Sportswear rainjacket. The epitome of weekend slumming in the Northwest.
Outside of the window I see two beautiful magnolia blossoms on an otherwise stillborn tree. Little deaths make life more meaningful.
Ray LaMontagne and gingerade Kombucha and Navel oranges messing up my fingernails and leaving a sticky residue over my hands, and now my keyboard, how reminiscent of a child am I.
I blink and I cry and I make sticky hot messes. I stomp my foot and I cross my arms and I shriek for absolutely no reason at the very top of my lungs. I demand to be fed. I demand to be held. I demand to be rocked and lullaby-ed and shushed and coddled and comforted.
Through it all I am determined to perceive myself as an adult. Thus the great paradox of life.
See what I mean? I am the ultimate definition of ridiculousness.
And so to come off of these moments of reflection and inquisitional delusion, I must laugh and I must write.
I must sing in the wrong key and I must make terrible jokes to remind myself that I am deeply human, and therefore should never take myself seriously because all humanity is folly.
It's funny how that never actually works. Funny how it ain't so funny, funny girl.
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