Lying in the living room

Listening to liquid gold right now. Man, this music is making me smile so much it hurts.

Go on. Imagine it. The song. It's in your heart and soul all the time. Just put the needle against the record in your head. The scratching makes your fingertips tingle. A little bit of white noise. Just a bit. But you are used to it. It's always there when you feel uneasy. But this song. Oh god, this song will cancel it. You just know it, because it's perfect. It makes you feel perfect. Just because there are tears running down your cheeks and salty snot makes it into your mouth and you almost choke on it, doesn't mean you can't feel the art that you and that music are. And it is like it is. A mess. A beautiful, snotty, runny, salty, tearful mess. But it's such a great feeling! Feeling like the tears you cry are washing your face. The sensation of cleansing yourself from within. Yes, the brain makes some white noise for a while, but then the beautiful liquid gold starts running down your face. You bathe in it like you do in the sunlight, lying on a rough carpet in the living room. The tears cancel the washing machine, the neighbors, cars on the road, the yelling. Outside and inside. Then they clean you like cold water from an untouched spring high in the mountains, the one that is so hard to get to. But that's exactly what you just did. You went on a journey. And when the tears get hot on your cheeks you don't need to wipe them away. Let them be. Some will disappear into thin air, maybe into dust that will fall on the floor or float in the air. Maybe the universe will take some. Some will dance to this amazing song with new ones you will keep on pouring, some you will store for the next journey. But for now, just let them be. Doesn't that feel good?