Sunday, 1 January 2017

A light

I was awaiting the train, as I often do on work days. Christmas had recently happened and 2017 would soon begin. Unfortunately, this day was one of the coldest of 2016.

You know that feeling, when your feet are so cold, the upright position is a challenge. I needed socks designed for artic conditions, but was ill-equipped with some which would have struggled to snuggle hairy hobbit feet. I may as well have gone barefoot. Obviously the train was delayed. In fact, I've never known it to arrive on time, yet this was a whole new level of tardiness. Despite my icey feet and the long long wait - I smiled inwardly. Doubtless, looking like l'd been chasing the dragon. People don't usually smile at themselves without chemical assistance. Yet I was not supported by toxic love. I was just happy because of music via recently purchased headphones.

Before motherhood, I always had music. Once my journeys included a small person, this stopped. One must be aware when travelling with children. Entering a wibbly wobbly world of banging bass lines is not wise when razor sharp observation skills are required. Plus you know, parent child interactions. Of course, I've made numerous journeys without my daughter for some time, yet neglected to buy much adored headphones.

Music is like switching on a light within. I often forget this until I press play, then, as the notes wash over me, my ears begin to orgasm. Furthermore, until I reacquainted myself with headphones, the miniscule gap between the self and the music was lost to me. A speaker close to the ear is rather like the sounds are coming from you rather than to you. Yes indeed, headphones in position, Grimes singing to my ear canal, I was Drusilla in Angel, when she exclaimed “I'm ringing”. Granted she was dancing to the ringing of a mobile phone, and is a fictional, mentally unstable vampire with a bloody awful Cockney accent but otherwise the comparison is entirely sound. Essentially, my headphones allow me to disconnect from the outer world and truly connected with myself.

Incredibly, I spent £7 in Argos and it changed my life. To homage ( should be) Sir Bill Bailey, it would seem that Argos really do posses a laminated book of dreams.


The RGF xx

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