Happens To The Heart

Cracks his fingers, rolls his neck clockwise and arches his back, but just a tiny bit. Puts on his wireless earpods and enjoys that waft of a Leonard Cohen lyric streaming in. Leonard is afterall a perfect accompaniment to the melancholy, the nostalgia thats brought him back to this. 

Things are good. They've been great too. There's frankly nothing to complain about and yet he's believed that the best writers are those that have deep sorrow, pain, a certain nakednesses of the soul to share. And he wants to write, he wants to share. Luckily he's often been wrong in his beliefs. 

As someone wise once said "When the facts change, I change my mind - what do you do sir?" 

His mind changes often and fluidly. So do his beliefs. So does his nostalgia, the melancholy. 

And yet he's coming to share. To write whatever's been floating in that mind of his. Don't think he wants to be listened to. Thats for philiosophers and seers. This is more the catharatic kind.