I got my laptop back.
It's almost like brand new but just the same as when it left me (a little bit battered and bruised but simply made for me). It feels good to feel the keys with every word I type.
Anyway, I'm rebuilding my music collection for what seems like the 20th time since me and this thing called "the virus" became frenemies. Although I curse the world everytime this happens, I can't help but be thankful. Each time my musical taste and style is reborn. I'm basking in the sweets sounds of Joni Mitchell, Journey, Kings of Leon and Whitney (before Bobby) just to name a few. My I pod has never been so alive and my ears have never been so happy. I think if you happen to spot me on the toronto streets you may see light shining out of my ears. They beem with glee as I saunter through the autumn leaves.
I think I truly fell in love with Joni upon one instance the I imagine will lurk my mind for the next while. If I ever write an autobiography this particular story may just enter it. And if you know me, you'll be overcome with empathy.
" So I'm walking to my house from school. I forgot some crucial component needed for the work I was doing in the studio. More than mustard, I HATE when I forget things. (that's A LOT) Anyway, I'm walking on the sidewalk and I come face to face with a gust of wind. In the battle there is a casualty. My scarf flies into my face rendering my eyes useless. In panic I try to enable my vision but in this struggle I drop my bag. I'm flustered. I have my belongings displayed on the sidewalk and I imagine looking like such a tool to the outside world. As I bend down to assess the situation, I note all of the people who are walking by me. At the moment I remembered my Grade One teacher Mrs S saying that it was important to be kind to one another, to help others when they needed help and to share our scissors. Here in the city, I am invisible and no one has learned the lessons I have learned so long ago. No one stops to help, no one smiles at each other. We are zombies trying to get from point A to point B. I got out of my own head for a moment as i picked up my belongings and Joni's voice echoed. "Oh it gets so lonely when you're walking and the streets are full of strangers" I couldn't find better words to describe the scene. It was lonely. It was cold. It was beautiful. It was rhyme. "
It's almost like brand new but just the same as when it left me (a little bit battered and bruised but simply made for me). It feels good to feel the keys with every word I type.
Anyway, I'm rebuilding my music collection for what seems like the 20th time since me and this thing called "the virus" became frenemies. Although I curse the world everytime this happens, I can't help but be thankful. Each time my musical taste and style is reborn. I'm basking in the sweets sounds of Joni Mitchell, Journey, Kings of Leon and Whitney (before Bobby) just to name a few. My I pod has never been so alive and my ears have never been so happy. I think if you happen to spot me on the toronto streets you may see light shining out of my ears. They beem with glee as I saunter through the autumn leaves.
I think I truly fell in love with Joni upon one instance the I imagine will lurk my mind for the next while. If I ever write an autobiography this particular story may just enter it. And if you know me, you'll be overcome with empathy.
" So I'm walking to my house from school. I forgot some crucial component needed for the work I was doing in the studio. More than mustard, I HATE when I forget things. (that's A LOT) Anyway, I'm walking on the sidewalk and I come face to face with a gust of wind. In the battle there is a casualty. My scarf flies into my face rendering my eyes useless. In panic I try to enable my vision but in this struggle I drop my bag. I'm flustered. I have my belongings displayed on the sidewalk and I imagine looking like such a tool to the outside world. As I bend down to assess the situation, I note all of the people who are walking by me. At the moment I remembered my Grade One teacher Mrs S saying that it was important to be kind to one another, to help others when they needed help and to share our scissors. Here in the city, I am invisible and no one has learned the lessons I have learned so long ago. No one stops to help, no one smiles at each other. We are zombies trying to get from point A to point B. I got out of my own head for a moment as i picked up my belongings and Joni's voice echoed. "Oh it gets so lonely when you're walking and the streets are full of strangers" I couldn't find better words to describe the scene. It was lonely. It was cold. It was beautiful. It was rhyme. "
stay warm,
JB
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