awake and listening

May 31, 2008

I am awake at this hour.  It may be that I slept and woke.  It might be that I could not sleep and am still awake. 

Does this matter?

I wonder about the music that plays while I type.  Yeasayer, Joan Jett, My Morning Jacket, Gold Streets, Renminbi, Swati, Yes, and CocoRosie.  I can’t pretend that this music does not hurt me.  Or heal me.  Or make me feel nothing.

I’m not really wondering. 

Just happens that these are the people who play the music I have recently added. They play in some random order that I have devised.  Without thought, without meaning.

That reminds me.  I saw a man on the subway this morning who reminded me of my soul.  A man I have known for years that I regret not really knowing anymore.  I’ve always thought that I have no soul, but this guy – he reminded me that I probably do.  That I have the kind of soul that kicks and screams, yet loves and holds.  He asked intimate, important questions.

Questions about the woman.  Not just Me The Woman, but  The Woman Outside. 

The Woman who makes up my soul. 

No, she’s not a g-d, but she is what I think about as I lay down to sleep every night.  Even when she’s not yet beside me.  Even when she’s still writing, wondering, thinking.  Or drinking, eating, seeking outside. 

She makes me feel. 

I am not awake.  I am not asleep.  I am here.  Just here listening and remembering.



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