It is August 6th and today has gone fast enough to feel like moments. It’s two thirty and I have been up for two hours and I feel like someone has snatched that time away from me and I still have so much to do before sleep eludes me tonight. This may stem from the horrible anxiety that I am unprepared and glancing at that writing on the wall as I stumble through the maze longing for an exit. It may stem from the fact that a little over a month ago I was broken up with and it still finds ways to eek its way into my mind, fill me with a nebulous sadness, and fear that my best will never be enough.
But I had a crick in my back for about three weeks and today I realized it was gone. I rarely think about pain after it leaves until some moment when I feel pain near that area in a small way, maybe by making an awkward movement, and I realize “I used to have a lot of pain here and this isn’t so bad.”
I am sitting on the couch in my new apartment, longing to have the wherewithal to read or record this unfinished album, but all I have the nervousness enough to do is write this.
A day is only made up of moments, and sometimes in those moments, as they cross you like the dopplar effect, you feel pain and sometimes you realize that an old pain is gone and what you are feeling is just something near it, and sometimes it mixes in with the feeling of terrible excitement. This is where I am, a day away from my travels, time passing so fast I can’t follow it with my eyes. And so I give my thanks and my love to bygone pain.
-Daylon M. Phillips (08/06/2018)
Daylon M. Phillips 