As I write this paragraph, I coincidentally chance upon the magical 11:11, sitting here plugged in to slow acoustic music, and letting the day stop in this moment for awhile and absorb my senses. I had an effusion yesterday that I can't seem to get over. It'll probably take awhile to sink in, but meanwhile I will allow it to manifest itself without restraint. We often let ourselves be too comfortable with numbness that we sometimes fail to pause for our feelings. In this part of the world we live in, everything is fast. Morning smiles are a rarity, and so are compliments. The place is hot, but its people are cold.
I used to be extremely particular about the environment I am in when I'm writing, but have recently learned to forego that peeve arising from a cacophonous surrounding. I maintained that to capture the right emotions in my expressions, I needed a "conducive" environment, though what constituted to conducive I was not all that certain. But I was wrong. I didn't need serenity or tranquillity; at least not in the surroundings. I needed it in my heart, in the spirit, where everything would halt so precisely for me to explore everything around the newly created black-hole within. How can I be so at peace if I've never been there before? I thought I hadn't, but I know I have when I let music take over my senses. It unlocks so many secrets, and it unwinds so many feelings. Pensive, all of a sudden. Rationality takes a rest and emotions seem to take control.
May this bliss repeat forever.
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