Back home.

I don’t know if I will call this a simple joy. It seems like a simple joy, but at the same time it’s such an intrinsic part of my life, that it seems like something a bit grander than just a simple joy. What I’m talking about is lying in my room – my old room at my mom’s house, where I now live again until I find my own place – listening to music. I hadn’t realized how much I missed this when I lived in Copenhagen. Not the being-in-this-room part of it, but lying around in bed, listening to music. The set-up in Copenhagen was pretty bad for this purpose. My stereo was the one we used in the living room, so I didn’t have any music in my bed unless I put on some headphones. Headphones are good, but just not the same. I love loud-speakers, even when they’re not all that loud. It’s just a different atmosphere, sitting in bed with Slowdive moving from the needle to the speakers, easing out into the room, filling it with their warmth.

Definitely: it’s more of a pleasure than a joy. So we might call it a simple pleasure. It just soothes me in a different way than I have been for the past year or so. This, right here and now, is when I feel at home. But it’s also now that I miss you the most, and miss the times we have had in this room with this music playing on these speakers filling up this room while we would lie here in bed listening, young and impressionable and so, so full of kisses.

“The world is full of noise, yeah
I hear it all the time
And me, I am your dagger
You know I am your wound
I thought I heard you whisper
It happens all the time
I thought I heard you whisper
It happens all the time”

(Slowdive: “Dagger”)


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