my cat bit my earphones

i am a person who commutes everyday with my earphones on. i listen to music and i dance to it. doing what seem to be small jerks to the public but a series of big and grand moves in my head. i was a dancer.
but my cat bit my earphones.  

i hum the tunes ever so softly only to find out the stares from the people i ignored the whole ride, could hear me. i was a singer.

a silent performer.
for the audience of none.
and yes, my cat bit my earphones.

i am a person who can’t live without it. i listen to music and i zone in. i cancel all the thoughts in my head and just be. in the midst of beats, melodies, harmonies, and lyrics i was at peace. the maximum volume became my version of quiet.
and yet my cat bit my earphones.

the cheapskate in me stops me everyday from buying a new pair even if in exchange i’d have to embrace a new kind of quiet.

the quiet shared by the people i commute with:
the roaring engines, the horns of cars following no beat at all, the shouting of the barkers and conductors rapping with no flow. i hear everything. i was a listener.

a loud performance
for the audience of one.
all because my cat bit my earphones.

i blame my cat everyday for this punishment. i love my cat but sometimes i wish she could pay for it or even apologize for that matter. but i have no choice but to continue my everyday commute without my earphones.
****. my cat bit my earphones.

the thoughts i can’t mute when i commute now screams loudly begging me to listen. begging me to write them down. begging me to finally piece together all the words i know will make sense when given time. i am a writer.
i just can’t help myself but think that my cat bit my earphones.

now i am a person who commutes everyday without my earphones on. i listen to my head and i feel it. putting together ideas and emotions that may seem unpolished to me but could be something great to the public once heard. i am an artist.

a performer.
for the audience, i’m the one.
all because my cat bit my earphones.