Hiding Place

“..he has the words avant garde tattooed on his forehead, and I think there will always be something to uncover. He wants it to be left that way.”

PicMonkey Collage

As I lay in bed, at 2pm on a Saturday afternoon another essay crossed off the to-do list, and the sound of my neighbours drum kit infiltrating the environment around me…I’m content with my lack of productivity. I feel as if our minds go a mile a minute. One minute you’re grabbing onto your friends hand stumbling into a bar, and the next you’re eating chocolate chip cookies in your friends apartment and looking at the city quieting down around you at 3am. So you call a cab, give them the address, and search for your house keys, and watch your friend grin over a new connection she made.

Because our minds run a mile a minute I often think of where everyone is on a Friday night. Whether they’re sitting in a staircase fighting for a connection that just won’t go out, or laying in bed enjoying their own comfortable silence, connecting to an LP turning 33 times a minute.

I think about the lovers in museums, appreciating different kinds of arts. Both of them have a different meaning for the word masterpiece, whether its a canvas, or the individual beside them. How the weather attempts to get colder, but still protects us with a bit of warmth. I think about the light coming from my window, a window that doesn’t see a lot of light but still manages to persuade me to step out into the world on a regular basis. I think about the individuals who stare at their phones until it lights up, the individuals who promise not to pick up but jump once they hear it ring.

I don’t have an explanation as to why we always answer the phone. John Mayer said, “Sometimes you tell someone to never call you again, and then the phone rings, and you hope it’s them. It’s the most twisted logic of all time.” And maybe a gentleman is a patient wolf, perhaps that’s why I fall victim to it all the time. But how can one person’s mind have the strength of a current to pull us in? I mean we’re so used to drowning that once we can finally breathe we experience a feeling of absence. Many measure it as stupidity, and if that’s the case then we’re the brilliant ones for choosing to go against what people want for us. But at the end of the day, we can handle a lot more than people think. All one really needs to do is grow a pair of wings on the jump down.

Whilst Wings by Birdy plays in the background. Hehe. 

Listen to what your heart talks about,
Daniella

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