ardent bullshit comes down every faultline gushing heavily into jest kindly luscious melons nodding openly post quakes resting still to undermind various wonderous xylophones yawning zealously

Thursday, May 27, 2010

Thistled Spring

Just got home after a long, but interesting, law class. I immediately packed my bag for the gym tomorrow morning, opened a bottle of white, & downloaded the disc I bought today from the record company (still like having ceedees for the player but they have this awesome auto download thingy & it's as cheap, or maybe $2 more than, as iTunes).

Horse Feathers: Thistled Spring.

If you don't pay attention to any other writing (and I wouldn't blame you), please listen to this. It's lovely. And making me feel a little sad for the impending move. I'm so excited about so many things about the new place. And it's doubtlessly a good move. It'll greatly simplify my life and I'll be living in an area that I just adore. It's so cute and near so much more (the street is literally lined with restaurants & conveniences). But in the next breath I feel sad for leaving what has been home for the last 3 years.

This apartment holds a history in my personal life. So many strong memories will stay in these walls. Some wonderful but mostly heartbreaking and stressful. I'd made it a home from the first week I lived here. Looking back, I could certainly see who anyone else living here would feel intimidated. It's been mine all along. Could tell you where everything is, or rather was, since it's all in boxes now.

More than anything else, I'll miss the back porch. Countless nights I spent sitting out back reading, writing, listening to music, and talking to friends. It was the most comfortable place in the apartment, emotionally. The bedroom holds restlessness & I've been avoiding it again lately. Not wanting to be in your bedroom is not a good feeling. The couch has become my bed until 3 a.m. again. Falling asleep in front of the television. Maybe it's some sort of subconscious attempt to separate, but that's kind of hokey psychobabble. It just is.

It's time for a move.

Speaking of which, I've armed myself with a fresh crossword to snuggle into my actual bed with tonight.

Again, really, this disc is fantastic. (or at least for me) If you need me on Saturday night, I'll doubtlessly be out on the porch, listening to folky music, reading, and end enjoying one of my last weekends to do just that.

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Blogger Sun Follower said...

Good luck in the new place. Because of rent control I have not moved in years. I miss the feeling of discarding what I no longer need or want and making a fresh start in a new space.

1:48 AM


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