Complaints and Jars Of Clay

I spent an hour in bed today.

What induced this hour? Well, indirectly, Robyn. We got to talking about Jars Of Clay, and she mentioned a song she really loved by them, called frail. I can't even describe it right now. It's 6 1/2 minutes of song, but only 1 minute of vocals. It's just so peaceful. I was studying, and it came on. I had to drop everything and listen. It made me go to bed, where I listened to it on repeat for somewhere between thirty minutes, and a full hour. I'm not even joking.

I just laid there, blocked the sun from my window, closed my eyes, and listened to it: over. and. over. and. over. and. over. It's actually almost depressing. I hugged my pillow and wished it would hug back.

Made me miss Corner Brook:

Where friendships were everywhere, and the important ones were less complicated.

Where school was easy to blow off, and my doggie always annoyed me.

Where mommy would always hug me, and my brother would always hit me.

Where my looser friends never had decent relationships, so I never thought I was missing anything.

Where my hated job provided the means to buy things, but my city never provided the things to buy.

Where I could hop on X Box Live almost any time.

Where all I wanted to do was watch movies with people, and I assumed talking would come naturally all the time.

Music is so powerful. I must profess my newfound love for Jars of Clay. And my profound wishes to have my summer back.

I'm already thinking about June. I still haven't learned that the future won't nessecarily be more fun.

"... The distinction between past, present, and future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion."
~Einstien