I believe that Jazz can be such solid, beautiful, gratifying music; and I don’t listen to it enough. Why not? Well, when I listen to jazz I go into this unusual mindset that seems to be deeper than most. It’s not of how things could be, or how things were. It’s just a realistic impression of the present. It seems that my mind is always forward or back, but never here, never now.
I’ve only been in love, or what I though of was the illusion of love, once. After years of false memories I finally learned to let go of them, and of him. But my curiosity still gets the best of me at times, when I try to see how he is. As of now he’s not too good. He’s not the person he was. Do I learn to except this change? Did I get angered at him for making foolish decisions? Do I continue to forget? Do I secretly pray that one day he would change his mind? What do I do?
Nothing.
I simply do nothing.
I have done what I could, and there is simply nothing left to do.
Living on my own is good for me right now. It allows me to think, really think. My boundaries are endless, my mind is broadened. I’m more open. It’s nice. It’s lonely, and over-analytical at times. But the positive makes up for the negative.
This is a busy upcoming week. Please call me for dinner. :-D I might need an escape for awhile.
