significance in everydayness

Am back in the arms of ::Midlake:: again… man, I love this album…

The drums/percussion rhythm in young bride is infectiously tappy… that’s a technical music term i just invented… makes me want to be in a pick up truck, or on a rolling train, or astride a horse…

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my track pad is broken and I’m loving my maybe-not-gonna-be-temporary replacement – a wireless 2 button mouse. I can right click again – probably the one thing bar the delete button Microsoft has over Apple. In the grand scheme of the world pressing ctrl plus clicking is hardly a chore but the ol’ right click seems to make a qualitative difference.
If it wasn’t for needing both my usb ports for some of my peripherals I’d not bother taking my baby to the mac doctor to get said track pad fixed…

Anyways, no idea what that’s got to do with… just seemed a mundane significance in my little world… well, better out than in…

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in truth, today has been about the significance of the mundane and ordinary… of what lies beneath the tensions in everyday interaction… of being pissed off with a taxi driver happy to sit in gridlock traffic rather than find an alternative route and my intense frustration at his disregard of my need to get from A to B as quickly as possible, nor being able to communicate my frustration…

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I never complain to cab drivers or waiters or shop keepers… I was served what can only be described as swill last weekend in a café in portrush and I’m still irritated that I didn’t protest…

So. Sigmund has dispatched me back into the world with a new kind of homework… if opportunity arises, this next week I’m to raise my complaints when the service industry fails to meet their end of the bargain…

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the guy beside me is playing a very goofy air guitar… the girl he’s having coffee with is laughing… they almost certainly work together… she wants to let him know she thinks he’s funny and that she knows how to have fun… he’s tapping his feet repeatedly… she’s not…. She plays with the scarf around her neck and struggles to pay attention when he’s not playing the joker… they don’t mirror one another at all save for leaning in across the table every now and again… how will they start to talk about what really matters to them? both are looking for connection but they’re not yet speaking the same language…

the couple across from me really like one another with affection and really listen to one another… they are in relaxed synch… she plays with the hair at the nape of her neck continuously… more physically contained than he but he’s not the issue, she always sits like this… she was brought up to not take up more room than is polite but her parents never envisaged her in scruffy converse boots… she is a combination of what she was expected to be and who she really is… his hands carry his expressiveness but his eyes tell a story… he listens with his eyes… they both do… the rest of the world slips into the background as they talk… they don’t work together… she takes a call on her mobile and despite taking in his surroundings his gaze always falls back to her face even though she’s looking at her knees as she speaks into the phone…

from inside this womb one relies not on sounds but body language to tell you the mood of the world…

like others, I sometimes resist listening to music so as to have a full experience of the world… but sometimes in cutting one sense off from the world, the others pick up so much more…

like others, I sometimes listen to music with intent, no distractions… but ya know… there is a part of me that tunes speak to when i’m just letting it surround me and my eyes are watching the world and hands are tapping on the keys… a part of me is always listening with intent…

there’s just not enough hours in life to hear it all… so much tunage, so little time…

LB,x