Category: Category 1

Waiting…that was my earliest memory. In the lounge with my Mother, in my pink pajamas, hair washed and talcum clean…waiting for the sounds of Daddy’s car, his shoes tap tap approaching. I didn’t know he was still married then, escaping his wife and family, to visit us.

I was always making sure I could not be seen. Disappearing into walls, watching the world go by. Hiding from the world, my world of rough hands and loud voices. The invisible girl in the corner well behaved. Always watching and trying to avoid people and their jagged and broken bits.

Why does this bother me so much now? Why on this cold morning as the mountains mourn in traditional white? I use to think I needed to…. Sing, sing, sing my existence into being. I have sung so much there’s nothing of my heart left. No, it beats and feels yes…

My heart is safer outside my chest. Inside my throat, sealed to a microphone on a stage, in a studio, while rehearsing. Sing. Sing. Sing.. words I crafted with care, with the kind of care I would struggle to piece together when in close proximity to someone I love. At best they would be met with silence. And interpret that as…indifference. The curse of being a Scorpio.

Perhaps what is plastered to my skin is….Your words are safe here with me. Your black memories and cold lies, I wont judge. People share the strangest shit with me. At best it will be sung away. Offering a perspective I was not privy to before. But safe it always is.

It stays with me of course. As I mission to another somewhere else I need to be. Because these days I listen more than I talk. I write more than I sing. I never stay longer than needed. And my head is filled with… …..everything between now and then, the being and becoming. It will morph into music. Music I need to take with me when I leave. It is not needed here. In this place. With you. As everything discovered in the in between places…the who we were and who we are becoming is filled with so much joy. So much Music. I no longer know what rooted feels like. 


♤ writing always makes me feel better somehow♤ 


♧ And my last night was so cool. Sitting on a bed with friends, wrapped in warmth, great conversation,sipping whiskey and reading tarot cards in dim light. Haha. Life is surprising and ironic that way♧


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