My Morning Jacket // Wordless Chorus


How come musicians are some of the worst dancers? They create the entire show. Actors and actresses in costumes pretending to move that way naturally. It seems a little forced considering no one who warrants attention actually seeks it. It’s just a natural phasing.

And why are we awkwardly linked to people we accidentally become best friends with. Like hey! It’s orientation week and I have no friends, so I’ll cling to you because you also are friendless. Then we pair off inseparably for a two week span before finding our more realistic click, trying hard to forget the former bond just to erase the embarrassment.

Too many people I do this one too. I’ll figure them all out before actually meeting them – see them around, listen to them speak while in the same class, trying to not look in their emerald eyes when I see them in person even though I’ve seen like ten-thousand pictures on my computer. It’s weird how we live. Because then you meet these enigmas in real-life and they usually sort of suck. But it’s hard to really forgive yourself for thinking they were something greater than their reality.

Sometimes I think about why I like lace too. Lace feels best on my breasts. Every slight movement in lace makes for a caressing, faint massage. Especially in sensitive regions, it can be quite pleasurable. I like to dress up for myself sometimes. Wear my raciest underwear to a mundane work day, sometimes even to the gym. I like pretending I’m a lot of things, but maybe I need to start understanding that I’m not playing house – maybe this is my real life and my real mannerisms.

I once saw a video of myself and it was at first intimidating because I was talking to a fake audience at my camera. But I kept replaying the video because I really liked dissecting my lips and my decanting slur that I realized, maybe I just like myself.

And I do. Enough to know when to give what you are given. Thus, cleaning out a rusted refrigerator, sharing the dinner I then made, while beforehand, smoking up my roommates. Something had to give, and it was me.

Feel good always even if you’re chorus isn’t as wordless but as pointless as can be. At least you’re free.

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