Everything dies

I spent the last hour or two immersing myself, like a cotton rope dipped in oil, in music. In the oil that lights the embers in my soul… and I am close to a small glow now. It takes a lot to light my fire now that I am so lost. Music has a funny way of filling me up, or helping me relate. It helps me feel like I can connect. The same way I connect with Sylvia Plath when I read her thoughts and musings, I relate to the songwriter when he writes:

For every beach there’s always a tide
The tide goes in and goes out
And every day comes with its own ending
A message in a shooting star
And everything’s calm, everything’s bright
Everything’s beautiful outside
Is it just me, or is it so cruel how everything dies?

Meet me in the valley
I followed the ones before I was born in Echo canyon
Raised on a storm
And fire and wind come and lives get torn apart

For every day there’s always night, and repetition
For every beach there’s always a tide
And everything’s calm, everything’s bright
Everything’s beautiful outside
Is it just me or is it so cruel how everything dies?
Is it just me or is it so cruel how everything dies?

_______

Is it just me, or is it so cruel how everything dies?  – RA

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