If you live in a city (or really anywhere) you’ll sometimes see transients who talk to themselves. Sometimes they just mumble, but sometimes they can be a little more aggressively conversational. I always wonder how aware they are; maybe by making sounds they’re asserting their own existence when most people tend to ignore them.
I sometimes do the same thing. I like to sing to myself right when a Metro is slowing down beside me because I can be pretty loud without actually being heard. For like 10 seconds I’m just a tiny, somewhat harmonious part of the noisy machinery of the world. And only I will ever know.
I see my father’s hands every time I tie my shoes or lift something from a plate.
Noah Gundersen — Poor Man’s Son
Listened to this again and again today, and it gave me the sweaty sunshine chills.
Give yourself five minutes to be riveted.