Of Thunderclouds and Old Songs

It’s a sudden disconnect and I can’t figure out why. It’s the same feeling you get when the headphone cord gets stuck on something and is rudely yanked out and the music stops with a snap, the rude shock of abruptness

It’s this feeling of wanting to stretch your arms up and hang by them, feeling every muscle get pulled.

Or maybe it’s just the weather, just this song.

I think I’m just a bit weary what with this exam in a month, the burgeoning job hunt (which albeit has been going on for three days now but on my mind for what, 7 months?)

The feeling finds manifestation in short shallow breaths, the kind where the cold air doesn’t seem to get past your throat, in restlessness as you try and sleep and wait for the next City sound to come through, when you pick at the strings, sitting on the bed, all the while waiting for the door to open and for something to happen.

It’s the same streets every day, always moving and never changing, always the same shapes and sound every single day.

It’s wanting to throw your head back and scream but not doing that because it will change the street and bring in something extraordinary.

It wanting something different but wanting it to come along without you having to rock the boat.

And then you sit on the rock, the sky gets a grey pall and you get bored of waiting but still sit and mull about it. Of course, this is all wanting to be swept away by events that you have no control over but sweep your life away. So if mistakes are made, it isn’t your fault.

When you proactively change it, you assume responsibility for the end result and in the end, can’t lift a finger against anything or anyone but yourself.

And with taking action on your own comes the weariness of making things happen.

I don’t want to coast along in life (such a delightful use of the word, of Jimmy Dean and ‘dragging Main’, past the ‘dime store’, ‘he was coasting in the Cadillac’)

But it would be nice to cut loose and shoot the moon, go with the breeze, stretch!

The sad part is, I know if I went off to “old Algiers”, the feeling of what next would return, like a slow shadow, playing catch up a few moments later, catching the next train up to me.

It’s time for change and if the wind’s don’t change on their own, well, I’ll find my own way.