"After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music." (Aldous Huxley, Music at Night, 1931)
- This afternoon I sat down at the piano and pounded out nearly every frustration I had been holding on to for many, many weeks.
Been thinking about faith today. Been thinking about the stalling of goals. Been thinking about regret. Been thinking about that line, "your best friend always sticking up for you even when I know you're wrong," in Train's "Drops of Jupiter." Been thinking about what happens when parents raise their children to hate all evidence of diversity. Been thinking about how long is too long in a comfortable situation. Been thinking too hard, again, about everything but politics.