Nostalgia hurts more than it helps in my opinion. I recently signed up for the family package for Spotify to share with my family. I definitely love it as I’m able to listen to music pretty much all eight of the hours I’m at work, the hours at the gym, and at home. Through the ebb of one artist, to the flow of the related, I end up finding myself on the beaches of tracks that were in my life at the times of horrible heartbreaks and breakups. Continue reading
I have a lot of respect for people that create things, put their art out there, whatever it is. To the writers, podcasters, filmmakers, videographers, designers, photographers, artists, painters, singers, songwriters, musicians, and all others who make things to entertain the world. Respect to those who create something and share it to little or no followers. I look around the net, on Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, WordPress and others and respect the people that do it for the love.
You’re not how many followers you have nor how many “likes” you receive. Don’t be discouraged if nobody reads, sees, comments upon, or likes it. So to all of you out there, you never know how it will inspire someone that, somehow, some way, may in the future, come across your creation.
We’re all listening to the waves of an ocean we can’t see. It’s an odd feeling when the view below eerily mirrors the view above. Some of the white sea foam crashing on the black rocks resemble the cirrus moonlit clouds in the night sky. It feels like I’m suspended in a timeless and dark pocket of the country’s Celyon past.
This area of space hasn’t changed in millennia. Beaches tend to do that to my consciousness. I lose any semblances of time as they transport me back countless ages and show no regard for any history thrust upon their shores. It’s a short trip back to the primordial before I hear the sounds of a modern city behind me. Continue reading