there was magic in the air

i'm having one of the most magical nights in my life.

because the electricity's off.

i'm lying here watching the room space. i never realized the light of the moon coming through my window is that beautiful in its own simplicity. seabear's cat piano seeps in my ears. i know i'm bored and my blood's pretty thin but some nights i swear there was magic in the air. i let the words infiltrate; magic, that's what i feel now. without the veil from the city lights, the sky is so naked, so yellow i can imagine the invisible stars. the air is still. the trees too they seem stunned by the atmosphere: the branches and leaves are all at a halt. the crickets finally aren't only entertaining themselves. i look at the shadows on the wall, tranquility. these all feel sort of sad, but beautiful. so beautiful that it overwhelms me i want to cry. if only i could dilute this moment and put it into a wooden bottle and pour it down when i need it.

i know people at some point try searching their cores. pilgrimage. grandiose massive worship. travelling the world. living as a hermit. playing their music...
i'm lucky here in my own room, in the heat of december nights, in between the tiny segments of time, i feel the connection with the whole universe:
i find my soul.

journal, december.

listen seabear's cat's piano