Counting blueberries

Thought No. 9

There is something special about watching a human do their own little thing. The way they write, sing, stare, stress, feel and be. I notice they way a human strings words together to form a sentence. Like a lyrics of a song. Possibly lyrics of their life. Her life. How do you explain wanting to be near a human with no real reason. Can one presence impact me this deeply. Wait, she’s saying things. Listen, I will. She says:

We can listen to this country song. It’s a real country song.

If you don’t want to be here. Leave.

Such a banger. Honestly, it’s a tune.

I’m going to serenade you with this song.

Isn’t it weird the amount of songs we’ve cried too? Which songs have you cried too? So many. Like this song. Which part? I wish someone would have told me it’s lonely.

There she goes. Mind running. Another phone call. She says:

Can I please see your face? Why though? Because I like seeing your face. Because I want to feel like I’m with you.

I don’t think my voice sounds so good tonight, but I don’t care. I’m just going to subject you to it. Aw such a cute song.

I resisted her. I resisted the concept of choosing her. I don’t know why she stayed. Does it even matter? People stay and damage one another. People run and damage one another. People hurt people. What if was glimmers of unspoken understanding that held two together. I feel society emphasises the now.

Be present.

It may be the humans that make it easier to feel present, are the people to stay close too.

Stay.

A random piece of writing. A worthy one that captures a moment. Sometimes writing for me is a place to capture. She captures a lot. I couldn’t be as brilliant. I think, there are times writers are left longing for love through words. Their love language is words right?