Nostalgia

This probly isn't that momentous an occasion that it deserves a blog all for itself, but oh well. It made my morning.

I got up with plenty of time to do a little workout. I diddled around drinking my coffee, which is usually the highlight of my day until cocktail hour. Anyway, I started my workout a little later than I wanted, but I finished anyway. I bounced around the house between making my lunch, getting somewhat dressed and taking a power shower, thinking I would be hard pressed to get out the door on time. I slammed down a pound and a half of hash browns, eggs and deer sausage so fast I made myself a little sick. As hard as I am not working these days, I just can't do that so much any more. So, I cranked up the stereo to my favorite band Shinedown and lay on the floor, resisting my urge to spew a perfectly good breakfast. I was falling asleep, and my two favorite songs on the CD came on one after the other- What a Shame, a song about the lead singers late uncle, and The Crow and the Butterfly, a song that is basically meant to be interpreted however. In my dazed, overflowing state I dissolved myself in the music- an overpowering (in a good way) bassline reverberating from the floor into my body, with the soul-refreshing background of the melody/harmonies, and in my stupor I thought This is how this music is supposed to be. I got so involved in the simple yet so powerful experience, I forgot where I was and what I was supposed to be doing. That is how I like my music- lived. I live for the experience of having it overwhelm my senses and draw me in, to feel it vibrating my entire skeleton and block everything else out.