I am sitting on a couch staring, no, gazing into a white screen while the only noticeably audible sound in the room is that of the kitchen tap dripping and me touching and lowering the keys on my laptop keyboard. The refridgerator is making a kind of gentle humming noise, but it’s not sharp enough to be considered a sound by my standards, if i have any. When the drops of water hit the sink it gives of a kind of reverby sound. Or, well, it’s not really reverb, but it sounds like more depth. I like it. It sounds like it has a purpose. It sounds as if it tries to become an ocean. The refridgerator calmly agrees.

I wish i had an ocean. Then i could gather friends and go on some fantastic journey somewhere or something like that. Not that i would actually ever muster the will to do so. I’m fond of ideas, but i’m lazy. Or, well, ah, lazy isn’t really the proper word. I just like to do things slowly, carefully, porcelain-like. Like gathering an ocean. I wish i was a kitchen sink. haha. It’s not that i plan often, or things thing through before i do them. I suppose i just like flow. Like a river. With a purpose, a waypoint, somewhere to go, just not feeling as i’m forced to or pushed towards doing it. As you’ve probably noticed i have a fixation with water. When i try to make ambient music, for instance, i see oceans as an ideal. You can drown in it. I mean this in a non-suicidal way. You can drown in reverb, it engulfs you and it feels good. Sounds good. Stereo swirl, octet haze. Also, an ocean is calm due to its vast size, it doesn’t really move that much except on the surface. But underneath it’s dynamic. Huge. Overwhelming.

I like music that gives me chills, but i suppose everyone does. I wonder if anyone has done any research on why it does. I mean, it’s one of the best feelings i know exist. I’m not sure i’ve encountered alot of feelings yet. “yet.” fuck, i’m eighteen years old. argh. Or, hm, I suppose i might not really want to know why, why sound can give me a feeling of euphoria. It takes away the mystery. When i think about it, i’m not that fond of science either. I like philosophy. Philosophy and tea. And poison. Nicotine. Alcohol. Experiencing something resembling love in a fucked up way that doesn’t make sense to me… Or, it might not be. It’s probably not. I’m unable to figure things out and it’s dragging me down. Trying to act a certain way around certain people. Distress. Things that make me feel me. Dynamic whilst stationary, present yet so far gone. Lost. Drowning, but in a good way.

“Drifting different ways to a place where all words must end, won’t you come a bit closer and i’ll push you back again.”

I think i am beginning to understand me.

Us.