![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
little stories and meaningful moments
Nov. 28th, 2003 03:45 pmI just realized that my sense of time is completely shaken. i've been living tomorrow for a few days now.
And I really love Sarah McLachlan's music. It is a bit difficult to sing along (Oh my.. I just got a flashback from a dream where I had lost my ability to sing!!!)but it lives in me anyway.
I've felt a great urge to hear new music lately. Music that really speaks to me. I even know what kind of music I'm looking for but I can't describe it because I don't know anything about the styles. It seems that most of the music I listen to is somehow inbetween styles.
Today I've been listening to "Surfacing" album. I will also listen to Portishead today. I want to fill my world with music and nothing else right now.. In a way I'm too scared to let any other thoughts in.
My head is so full of stories. They are coming from everywhere. And most of them have one theme; reclaiming one's will to live in most strange circumstances. I know I should write those stories but they do not really want to be written. They wish to be told. So why on earth there is no place for story telling in my life? I'd love to sit by the fire or anywhere comfortable, or just lay on the bed and share stories of wonder and sadness and beauty.
I know that in the beginning they would be fragile and far from well told and complete but it wouldn't matter. Not every story has to be perfect piece of litterature. They should just be the way they are, perfect in their imperfection, just like life.
And I really love Sarah McLachlan's music. It is a bit difficult to sing along (Oh my.. I just got a flashback from a dream where I had lost my ability to sing!!!)but it lives in me anyway.
I've felt a great urge to hear new music lately. Music that really speaks to me. I even know what kind of music I'm looking for but I can't describe it because I don't know anything about the styles. It seems that most of the music I listen to is somehow inbetween styles.
Today I've been listening to "Surfacing" album. I will also listen to Portishead today. I want to fill my world with music and nothing else right now.. In a way I'm too scared to let any other thoughts in.
My head is so full of stories. They are coming from everywhere. And most of them have one theme; reclaiming one's will to live in most strange circumstances. I know I should write those stories but they do not really want to be written. They wish to be told. So why on earth there is no place for story telling in my life? I'd love to sit by the fire or anywhere comfortable, or just lay on the bed and share stories of wonder and sadness and beauty.
I know that in the beginning they would be fragile and far from well told and complete but it wouldn't matter. Not every story has to be perfect piece of litterature. They should just be the way they are, perfect in their imperfection, just like life.
