Life, Sweet Life.

David Gray sings a song called Nemesis:

I am the thoughts you are too ashamed to share..

I have some of those. They're all I've been thinking about, all last night and almost all day. They linger in my mind and catch my tongue like burrs. They fill my throat with puffs of cotton, my chest with crowds of heartbeats.

But I'm good now. Menial tasks such as washing dishes are strangely effective at washing away things like thoughts and musings other than music and bubbles. I'm glad for it: I've missed that innocence.

Now I can swing my feet, and listen to music and love it for its melodies and not its message (you may know of my penchant for sad or wistful songs), and look at art and love its beauty instead of nearly-weep over the emotions it stirs.

And that is this day: a blustery, autumn-y sort of day in which I met a Top Chef, was confused by my own circles of thoughts, talked a little bit, played a little bit, walked a little bit. A day in which I lived.