My music player had died in the night so I made a nice bed of softness and plugged it’s heart in.
While I waited for her to wake up, I did what only motivated got to do it now person woulda, and got out my computer and my mile long headphone string.
I danced and moved and zib zabbed in a diameter space of 6 feet.
I was deeply out of breath without the breaks of jogging down the driveway.
Music players heart had started beating at a good percentage so I got that on my head and got the steel wagon behind my arms and my son on top of it and jogged on the wet grass. Up hill and down hill. Then proceeded to kick around a kid soccer ball with him.
46 minutes of a higher intensity today. Yes.
I had plugged and pressed play and prilled up my April day.
You realize new things all the time. Sometimes you ignore them. Sometimes you can’t.
Sometimes deeper inflection means more new things.
I used to be a giggle, life loving, small things make me laugh loud, person.
It got crumpled over the years and now, looking back I tend to feel sad at the loss of that characteristic of me.
But as it turns out,
I am in charge of my self.
I really can promote that type of easy happy. Just by changing some brain thoughts.
I realize that over time I have gotten more conscious of my little springy happiness and thought it to be childish. But now I know that those are the things that do make me happy and without them, I lose a big chunk of self. And losing a good part of self, is a sadness.
I dont’ feel 27. I still feel 20. And that is where the imbalance comes from.
I shouldn’t care about what others thnk anymore. Because it’s wrecking my life.
So I shall now walk into my days with a silliness, a goofiness that I’ve tucked away in trenches. Because that’s the kind of happiness I am good at creating and being around. That’s the me that I need to live.
Shadow of large long branch on beige wall. Moving because that’s the moves of the century. Moving because that’s the way to feel the world.
And conversation with parents voices. In my headphone ears. One was in Canada. And the other in Brazil. And there I sat in Thailand, on a wooden bench with bats winging around my head.
Special feelings are ones where only certain people or things can make happen. They can be small. Like shadows on walls. Or big. Like family.
They can be big like culture. Culture doesnt fit in my head. It comes bustin out of my ears and I write about it like I’m reliving it and all those feelings comes swimming over. Easily.
Small things that poke your mind and feels good. A connection. Within yourself. Like you’re the one laughing at your own joke. The joke you told inside your head. Because her hands massaging my face, smelled like a bubble bath I had years ago. Because that smell rolled up a memory and a frame of time I hadn’t thought of in years. And love gets to be both big and small. Because small things can happen and you connect it with love. And big things happen that we attach love to, too. Like proposing. I’ve never been proposed marriage before. But I’m married. And have been proposed hundreds of things.
And it is later than what it was earlier So that’s usually a good a sign as any To get into the clouds of Sleepville.