note for later

this week has brought me tumult with some and peace with others. i am finally able to make peace with the fact that a year ago, in those two electric weeks with you, i could feel all the molecules in my body singing and they will sing in that moment regardless of whatever has since transpired, between and for both of us in our lives. thank you.

towards a philosophy of mass transit

listening to pieces bach wrote for the harpsichord is the sonic equivalent of peering into the mechanical workings of a grandfather clock. delicate, complex, intent on some sort of cosmic discipline. put on prelude 1 from the well tempered clavier the next time you're people-watching in an airport, train station, or some other place designated for flux and not rest, and watch as the movements of the crowd rushing past all of a sudden become metronomic, their steps meeting at moments of sweet synchronicity before parting again, like chords struck and dissipated into broken arpeggios, propelled by their common need to go from here to there.