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Music is such a strange thing. Something so intangible and multifarious has so much power over us. It’s like relinquishing your feelings to a ghost and saying “Here, do what you will with these” and then either getting hyped as hell or wrecked as f*ck . But beyond that, holy shit music is so magical. Think about it, the same words worn out time and time again, used in one form, with certain chords and a certain voice, gets a facelift with new chords and a new voice and BAM! it’s a whole new entity. On top of that, the same song can have such a range of effect on people, and even change the same person at different points in their life. That much power lies in a 3 minute collage of sounds.

I don’t know, maybe it’s just me being mind blown but the power of something so simple astounds me. That and also after going to Jon Bellions concert, my mind, my heart and my eardrums are blown too.

I respect artists who respect their art form. Just keeping it real and keeping their humanity in their music is something so rare these days, but personally I believe it makes such a big difference in the quality of their music too. Don’t get me wrong, I love me some Cardi B, but when you get down to the real core of why you listen to music, it’s what it gives you when no one or nothing else can. It keeps you from feeling truly alone (I heard that from someone somewhere and it was too thought provoking to not include). I’m not a huge music fanatic, in the sense that I don’t know my technical terms nor do I spend my days trying to learn song covers, but I need music just as much as the next person to be able to grasp the things we find inexpressible. From a dancers perspective at least, I feel like music provides the definition to the “words” your body tries to express. I don’t know if that made any sense so I should probably end this before I start rambling or adding letters to places they don’t belong.

Anyways, I kind of just wanted to write something, so here’s the product of that urge and Jon Bellion’s concert.

work in progress

*I’ll save you time and tell you this is going to be long in advance. You’re welcome*

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Happy. I can finally say that word without being afraid it’ll disappear before it even slips out between my lips.

I can say, that almost after forever and a half,  I am genuinely happy.

You know it’s weird in retrospect.  I started writing because it was the only thing I could use to escape from a life that drowned me on the daily, in self loathing and doubt.  On more than one account, I didn’t think I was cut out for this game called life, and thought that throwing in what cards I had left would make everyone else in my life happier. I truly bought into the idea that, at least, if I could stop being a problem in my loved one’s lives, I would have at done one thing right. I spent countless nights lying in the comfort of the corner of my dark closet, with my tear streaked face buried deep into the carpet, choking on words that wouldn’t come out. I kept wishing, praying, and hoping, that if I lay still enough, if I just stayed quite enough, that it would all be over. 

But I didn’t. Some irritatingly stubborn human part of me wouldn’t let the flame go out, and desperately fanned it alive with a tiny little sliver of hope. No matter how hard I wanted to let go, I couldn’t. Funny thing is, if you ask anyone who knows me, I don’t think they would have realized I was dealing with any of this (minus one special person – you know who you are and man I will never not appreciate you).

It’s taken a lot for me to come to the point where I can comfortably talk about this part of my life, but being able to face it helped me find myself again. The real version of me. The version that I had thought had vanished forever.

Fast forward and summer has arrived, and three months, eight states, and one season of WOD later, I’m still here, and as cheesy as this sounds, better than ever.

New people, new places, new memories and a new mindset on a final year has brought me today, and god, have I been oblivious to all the things I could’ve been smiling about before.

24 hours of being happy. 24 hours of little things falling so perfectly into place. 24 hours of unpacking hidden smiles. 24 hours of realizing who I do want in my life. 24 hours of raw, unfettered, appreciation.

Today, I remembered what it feels like to have your cheeks ache with pure laughter. What it feels like to have your heart beat to surprises. What the world sounds like at 11 pm, when the moonlit streets glimmer with busy gas-related chatter and strawberry colored tail lights. I remembered what it feels like to be content with life for just one moment.

I am a work in progress, and I know I still have a hell of a way to go. But I’ve found people who I know will make this journey exciting. People who make me feel less alone; people who make me appreciate myself and my work even when I’ve given up on both. These are the kinds of people in your life that you don’t notice, but are the true silver lining to your happiness.

I am a work in progress.

But I can finally say wholeheartedly, that I am a happy work in progress.

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