#SummerOfMe

Had the most fabulous 24 hours.

Left work. Accident didn't bother me. Drove into a raging storm. Couldn't see in front of me. Rain was pelting at my windshield. Hailing. Cars were pulled over to the side of the road. Tree branches falling on the highway. My GPS died. But I didn't care. I just kept driving. Heading towards my destination. Knowing that it would be worth it. 

Driving into Atlantic City was thrilling. Seeing all the hotels. The lights. Shining through the fog. The grey sky. Parking in Bally's hotel parking lot. Walking through the casino. Bright lights everywhere. Gamblers all around. I finally made it to the 38th floor and saw my friend. We haven't seen in each other in three years. We hung out in the room for a while. Ate. Changed clothes. Some makeup. Cat-eyes.

Gambling isn't my thing. But watching all the people throw away money is quite fascinating. I see why it's addicting. R gambled so we got free drinks. Cranberry vodka for me. It was so freeing to drink. No responsibilities. No car to drive home. Letting go. Unwinding. She gambled while we waited for the club to open in Caesar's. 

The club was pretty empty when we got there. Fine with me. I've been desperate to dance. Itching to move my body. For so long. No one ever wants to go with me. Second cranberry and vodka. Little cranberry. Lots vodka. Dancing like there's no tomorrow. Tipsy. Music blasting. Hot as hell. Club starts filling up. Moving. Shaking. Dancing. Feeling. One with the music. Fireball whiskey. Shot number one. Sweating. Hands in the air. Music is life. Music is soul. Fireball whiskey. Shot number two. Drunk. Dancing. 

This morning. We sat by the beach. Right outside the hotel. It was amazing. Talking about life. Hardship. Reality. In the sun. People watching. Trying not to get attacked by seagulls. Feet in the water. Sand. Writing. Reading magazines. Chatting about nonsense. Talking serious. Living in the moment. Summer of me. Indulging. Friendship. 

It was time to end our awesome day together. Driving today was so amazing. The weather was so beautiful. Total difference from yesterday. Perfection. Windows down. Music blasting. Sunglasses. Singing at the top of my lungs. Tanning my arms. Was probably the most relaxing drive. I really needed that time on my own to just breathe. Speeding down the highway. Not a care in the world. 

This is exactly what I needed. Indulging. Taking care of my inner child. Release. Breathing. 

Sun-kissed

Roadtripping

Ultimate therapy

Open road

Mountain view 

God's creation 

Beauty 

Zero traffic 

Windows down

Hair flying 

Music blasting 

Sun-kissed arms 

Freedom

Clear mind

Peace

Complete

Whole 

Pause on life 

Break from reality 

Time alone 

Breath of fresh air

Hours of clarity 

Much needed 

Traffic

Home 

Back to reality. 

UnOriginal

It's Sefira but I can't stop myself from listening to music. I get the reasoning. Music has a tremendous power. It has this absolute control over me. But it doesn't make me happy. Does that justify things?

Music makes me sad. The lyrics place me in a trance. The beat manages to push its way into my veins. The emotion and feeling in the singer's voice take over my soul. It becomes an out of body experience. Completely overwhelming.  All encompassing. Shouldn't all that be a reason not to listen.

But I can't stop. I want the loss of control. I need the emotional release. I crave feeling. Feeling something. Anything. Even if they are not original. Even if they are not mine. For one moment, I can feel something. And that's the point. That's all that matters.

the story never ends

Let me tell you a story.

There once was a girl.  For the sake of the story, we will call her Olive. Olive looked very young. She had great genes. External genes that is. Most of the women on her mother's side looked very young. A true miracle. Internally, Olive had aged way too quickly. She had the soul of a 93 year old. An old soul. And too many experiences to count for her young age. Painful experiences. 

Olive played a part. She was the lead in a very complex play. She was the heroine. For everyone else. She showed up to every practice. Never missed a beat. Lines were all memorized. Costume was always ironed and pressed. She even ad-libbed when others' faltered. Olive was a pro. Always to be counted on. Reliable. Responsible. 

Olive held it all together. Until one day, she couldn't. Olive couldn't fake it anymore. Her facade started crumbling. The walls around her soul could no longer hold themselves up. The glass surrounding her heart lay in a shattered mess inside her lungs. Every breath became difficult. Every movement felt weighed down. 

Olive continued showing up to practice. But her lines faltered. Her enthusiasm was lacking. She showed up. But she wasn't really there. She was nowhere to be found. She heard nothing. Not the director and not her fellow actors. The only sound that penetrated her body was the music. Only music. The music had never left her. Never abandoned her. Olive felt enveloped in the music's power. It ate her alive. 

The story of Olive never ends. It just goes on and on. Until it doesn't. 

Itching at your fingertips

Do you ever listen to this cd

Does it hit you

Strike you straight in your heart 

Do you avoid these songs

These lyrics 

Do you remember

What the words mean 

What the words do

Do you feel the words in your soul 

Crawling on your skin 

Itching at your fingertips 

Does this cd take you back 

To moments no one knows 

Secrets 

Hidden moments 

Do you remember what this cd does 

What these songs represent

The power of the verses 

And the beat 

What the beat does 

Do you still feel it