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.
i love being in my own world; earphones plugged in, a stroll outside, or even sitting down and staring at nothing. walking alone at night, the silence keeping me warm. i guess got used to being alone, that sometimes, it's loud even if it's silent. i guess i got used to it so much, that sometimes, i love home more when it's quiet. i know, to some it might sound selfish, (or maybe it's just me) but i'm just used to it.
that's why it's weird for me to feel the need for your presence. it's weird to feel as if you should be here right next to me; to feel as if our skins should always be touching each other. it's just... weird.
it's as if being alone feels foreign, now. my hand now feels cold whenever yours aren't there to warm it. now, i just love the fact that i could share my earphones with you; my music, my own little world with you in it. i feel as if i'm no longer selfish. as if home isn't home without your voice to fill it.
i love the fact that your mere smile replaces the deafening silence in my head. and my eyes went from staring at nothing, to staring at you. i love the fact that i'm getting used to that; that i'm getting used to you.
even though you are always tangled i will always fix and straighten you Will never forget you when i misplaced you Will find you when you're gone Will carry you always I need you everyday Music runs to you to calm my heart I love my earphones like i love you