I sit on the couch a lot. I'm not entirely sure what consumes my thoughts really, they seem to begin somewhere but rarely move forward with purpose and conviction. I guess it's something I have to work on.
Time is passing.
Before going to bed yesterday, I listened to Lucius' Wildewoman on vinyl,
for maybe the 4th time.
I have taken a liking to vinyl. It isn't serious, but I wish it would be.
I don't think I'm serious about anything. That's something I also
should change.
I love the way the vinyl spins at the perfect pace,
how the tiny ridges manipulate sound into something
real but not tangible.
I'm unable to touch the sound once it leaves the vinyl but
once it hits my ear drum.. then it's real.
It's wonderful.
Music is love,
and love is music.
This is just a small snippet of a song called "Nobody Knows how Loud your Heart Gets" by Lucius.
Thank you.
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