I don’t know a lot. I know a little of some things and a lot of general crap that is only useful in a pub quiz. I don’t know my own gut. I never stretched that muscle all that often. I don’t know how to feel most of the time. I know what is ‘appropriate behavior’, but that is not always the reaction in my lungs. So I swallow it down. Make them happy. Show gratitude. I know that’s what they want to see. I know they mean well. I don’t know any other way to be.
Sometimes when I listen to Alexi Murdoch, I know what it feels like to love, to be loved. To be held and it not feel forced or uncomfortable. I know the feeling. And yet I cannot explain this to anyone. Not without, “You’re not trying” smashed back in my face. Give it all you got. But what if it’s not got what I want to get.
I hear a simple melody over plucked strings and basic cords. I hear words sung in deep soothing tones. I feel a blanket of warmth surround me. It feels familiar and right. It’s where I want to be. But I don’t know where it is. I just wonder if it is here. I know maybe I don’t know.Thanks to Alexi Murdoch for helping me hear my heart.