Outside the home,where the heart is, is where pieces fall into place. Every place we are immersed in is a mirror, the workplace is where you see reflections of your mind, where you look around and meet minds one way or another. Elsewhere, in the company of friends, makes you see yourself enjoying moments of fun and the comfort of being seen for who you are.
Last weekend, I had the strangest feeling just being in a room where I looked around and saw myself in everyone, listening to songs I know by heart and mind, singing words I’ve known for so long, and hearing it knowing that people around me love it for all the same reasons I do. What have I been doing all this time, and where have I been going?
I was in the comfort of the strangeness of perfect strangers who share my passion for genuine articles of music. Every beat, every note, every key, every chord with every strum is a familiar one that only re-ignited the fire that used to burn so brightly inside me. I may have embraced the musical revolution, welcomed the infiltration of new media while somehow loathing the scene, not knowing that somewhere in a lazy street not far from where I live, is a heaven underground where the music I know and live for still thrives.
We are who we are, and we are really what we listen to.
Derailed Thoughts 