A wall of water, a wall of bricks.

I got back into town at about midnight last night. I hit up TC for a ride, because it seems nearly all my regular go-to's are enjoying a piece of their summer in some area of the world other than Syracuse, New York. I guess he's been a little sick though the last few days, because it was Sarah's sweet smile that greeted me the moment I exited the airport. It was so nice to see her. Of all the common and repetitive moments in our everyday lives, I can't think of many things more uplifting than being on the receiving end of a sincere smile. Such a simple thing to do really. I'm not sure why more people don't do it. 

Our short little drive had me talking all about my Louisiana adventure this last week. I was beaming and speed talking and all psyched and somehow couldn't slow down enough to make our conversation more two-sided. I just couldn't help it. My last week was quite a week. It was a week that almost seems ilke it was demanding me to feel it. There were very few minutes that didn't come with at least some small degree of emotional importance. A few thousand of those feelable moments, even with the more slight ones considered, would probably explain why my entire body feels like it ran into a brick wall. In a good way though, I think, if that's even possible. 
 The week blew by so quickly. I'm dreading the inevitable moment that the experience becomes less holdable to me. Will it go away in a week? In a month? When exactly do I forget what the rug felt like under my bare feet in the vocal booth? Or the pain at my fingertips from playing my guitar more than I've been used to? Or the pressure of sound in my ears when listening back to my very own songs in a new found light? Or all the irrepressible smiles that happened as a result of watching two people be bad ass at what they do? These little jolts of delight are heart heightening. So much so that boxes would probably be packed and Shreve bound if I had more of an addictive personality.
x. Bea.


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