I’d like to imagine that after I die, music will play in my absence- so that each person, when they hear a certain song can smile, and the soundtrack of my life will ring out through six feet of dirt and gravel.

Certain songs have powers of healing- though first, the tears come. The nose burns, then the eyes itch and soon after belting out the words in the car, it’s the scene of the “Crying Game,” minus the shower and transvestite tendencies. I still hear certain songs and think clearly of people, “Michelle” by the Beatles reminds me of Kinney, and “Never Let You Go,” by 3eb is the entirety of senior year- complex equations like, switching tables in the lunchroom and breaking curfew to make out a block from my parent’s house. The good, the bad, and the near misses.

Do you have songs that when they turn on, you instantly think, “thank christ- because this moment would be harder if I wasn’t screaming these words.” If you do- then we’re the same.

To whatever happens, there are words out there greater than I could ever try to express.  For each moment: There  is so much beauty. I saw it on a couple emails that came through this morning, and heard it on my mother’s voice when she spoke. In their wisdom and hope- I felt incredibly blessed. Sometimes, it’s not the moments of self-pity that bring me to tears, but the kindness of the incredible people around me. We all have the power to change our thought- and the power to reach out. There’s an entire room of people singing the beauty and the pain of being alone. Together they sing.

I love you guys.

“There’s this burning, like there’s always been. I’ve never been so alone, and I? Have never been so alive.”