Making The Most Of Rapturous Nothings

"if you asked me what music i like most... i reply, the sounds around me i haven't composed."

and what haven't i composed lawd lawd i ain't even a composer. not per se. but what don't ever one of us compose?

every day and every moment we each and every one of us compose our desires, our secret hidden fantasies buried down so very deep coming to the surface in fits, starts, bits, drops, pops, bangs and sometimes all it takes is walking a midtown street in the rain trying to remember how you got to that place how you got there how you are how you were and all of a sudden and a very suddenly it's all too much to hold in and then. just. like. that. pow. bang. hmph. it all comes out. tears. sobs. wails. tears sobs wails drop to knees holding on barely holding on trying just to try hoping to keep it together but failing so miserably but succeeding succeeding succeeding yes yes yes yes yes this is something something something SOMETHING this is happening and fuck it all FUCK. IT. ALL. "every day is a beautiful day every day is a miserable day." this is something that happens. every moment. every day. and you. or her. or him. or someone else entirely. and that's just how it is. that's how it was how it will be. every moment a funeral every moment a festival. can you honestly tell the difference? ha. i dare you to even fucking try. good luck, because it's all the same in the end. like a new york conversation it's impossible to tell if it's argument or agreement. and every night we fall asleep with the same in our heads and wake up with.... well the same. tabula rasa? bullshit clean slate. it's always the same and it's never so. we're left hanging on the edge of reality. hanging on the edge of everything that ever was and ever has been. how exciting is that!? we are, at each and every moment, on life's edge. the end of the world cannot be prophesied. it's just gonna happen. just like that. so at least at the very fucking least... enjoy it.