Cello of the woods

It rained today and I raged in class. And now, in the aftermath, there is only nostalgia. Listening to Shapiro and various other cellists, I miss my warm full-bodied cello. (I say this because my cello was stolen, and I currently use an electric cello - which is not the same) I think I took for granted all those moments that I hid behind my cello during concerts, in practice, to take a rest, to cry, to disappear for a moment (ostrich in the sand, yes yes).  I hope one day I can find my cello of the woods again. 

A dreamy day to blend into a dreamy weekend?

Even though most days, you don't really notice yourself, and frankly, probably feel meh-neutral - there are some days, you just feel genuinely happy in your skin. (No need to reminisce about neat experiences, pat pats on the back, how many wonderful friends there are--- that sort of thing)

Hoping this continues through to the weekend. (Note to self: do not forget that your first true romance/love was with life.)

Night: a time when thoughts can smell

Oftentimes, I cannot sleep at night, and so stay up, and am not productive. But I love these these silent moments that balance the amorphous noise that chatters on in our heads.  You don't have anyone to talk to, so without that pressure, thoughts can go skinny dipping, take different forms, become monsters, become creatures, become ghosts, blobs, whispers. And they start to smell like things you can't pinpoint but that you can recognize and feel so connected to. Nighttime seems to awaken a million of these thought-scents - exploding with energy. You can't really describe a scent completely, (hence it is the perfect medium to transport memories);  you can't help but to feel your thoughts at night. Fuck yeah! 

Thank you for so many good movies

I don't do this sort of thing but he always seemed to remind us of who we really were. What will the world do without someone so brutally honest? (Lester Bangs' "You'll meet them all again on the long journey to the middle" (Almost Famous)) How many raw tears fell alongside yours? Anyhow, rest in peace, Philip Seymour Hoffman.

Something (Sarychev Volcano)

Shades of Glad

There are so many "glads" but the best is transient and never witnessed by anyone other than yourself. It is the warm glad, that makes you smile, look off to the distance, never needing words (could there really be any words?). I wonder how many people in the world, albeit never happy out loud, never smiling and laughing, have a million of these little secret glad moments. Technically, these moments compiled would make them mysteriously happy people. Maybe that is the vibe I get from certain people who look very grumpy but have a certain underlying humor about their character. Anyhow, what are all these words out there? And what do they mean? And is there the PERFECT word? If there is, please leave me a note. I shall be tickled pink.

Somewhere, maybe someday, maybe somewhere far away