I am full of music. My little sister had taken my guitar for a few months of lessons, at the end of which she was able to play Old McDonald Had A Farm with moderate success. It has now been returned and I can play enough chords to play some songs. Playing reminds me that all I really want to do is sing. I love to sing, am filled by the notes, even if they are not all on key.
Ingrid Michaelson's "A Bird's Song" has been a favorite of mine today, and then, tonight as I searched for more, The Weepies "Painting By Chagall" and The Lucksmiths "Guess How Much I Love You."
"It's a mean town, but I don't care. Try to steal this. Can't steal happiness."
That's from Happiness, also by The Weepies, and so much how I'm feeling. In this cluttered place, flipping itself over in its determination to figure out if it is safe or hostile, I am feeling really happy for the first time in a long time. Making plans for my return to school, to friends. Leaving this behind.
I would stay up all night singing if I could, walk the streets, sing out my window. Music may be all the space I need for myself right now. Recordings of the rain that fell so heavily today, drowned out by Tegan and Sara and air conditioners. A spider wove a web outside my window in the downpour, beneath the ledge of roof, a wall of rain closing him in. I watched the spider skirt its way seemingly through midair. Everywhere around me are springing up silken safety nets. If I fall - and I will - those will be my landing place.
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