I don't know youI firmly believe that hearts speak through music, because they don't have a voice of their own. Sort of like how Bumblebee plays the car stereo to talk to Sam in Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen and how Glen Hansard sorted out his life in Once. Or maybe my weekend simply had a theme. Music as heart. It's always been something that makes perfect sense to me but I can openly appreciate the...uh...cheesier aspects of life as easily as you'll make your disdain for them known.
But I want you
All the more for that
Words fall through me
And always fool me
And I can't react
And games that never amount
To more than they're meant
Will play themselves out
Take this sinking boat and point it home
We've still got time
Raise your hopeful voice you have a choice
You'll make it now
In other news, wet wooden painted steps and Bridget in a hurry always equal bad things and I took one hell of a fall yesterday. So Ben was reduced to very incredibly gentle missives last night so as not to make anything hurt and that is so not fun in the way I like my fun to be had. Gentle? Fuck that. Tenderly? No, thank you. Softly? Move along now. Ignore it and go for broke? Yes, please!
But he doesn't listen to my head. Just my heart. It sings so much louder. For that I'm always appreciative.