What r u listening 2?

I’M LISTENING TO…

IM LISTENING TO AIRPLANE SOUNDS; AND LITTLE BLACK DUCKS MADE BY ME. ALSO, THE AVALANCHES. FUCKIN.. UNCERTAINTY.

WHAT I’M LISTENING TO

I’M LISTENING TO HER TELL ME HOW EXCITED SHE IS THAT I LOST A FEW POUNDS THIS MONTH AND HEARING FROM HER HOW GREAT I LOOK. I’M ALWAYS LISTENING TO HER VOICE, SEEKING HER VALIDATION IN ANY POSSIBLE WAY I CAN GET IT. HER VOICE TEACHES ME THAT I WILL NEVER BE GOOD ENOUGH. BUT I’M ALWAYS GOING TO LISTEN. I’M LISTENING TO HIM TELL ME HOW BADLY MY WORRIES, MY ANXIETY, MY RESTLESSNESS, RUBS OFF ON HIM - BUT WHAT I’M NOT LISTENING TO, IS “ARE YOU OKAY?” OR “HOW CAN I HELP YOU FEEL BETTER?” I’M LISTENING TO MY OWN VOICE, AND THAT VOICE IS ASKING ME OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN, WHY DO YOU CONTINUE TO GIVE YOUR ENTIRE BEING TO SOMEONE THAT SPENT WHAT FELT LIKE AN ETERNITY THAT NIGHT COERCING YOU, NOT TAKING NO FOR AN ANSWER; A MAN HIT YOU SO HARD WHILE HE WAS RAPING YOU THAT YOU BLACKED OUT AND SAW ALL OF THE STARS THAT MUST’VE BEEN IN THE SKY THAT NIGHT. I’M LISTENING TO THE VOICE IN MY HEAD TELLING ME IT SIMPLY ISN’T WORTH IT ANYMORE. THE VOICE THAT TELLS ME I’VE ALREADY DUG MYSELF WAY TOO DEEP INTO THE HOLE OF SHAME, NOT AN OUNCE OF SELF ESTEEM LEFT TO CLING ONTO. BUT TO EVERYONE ELSE, I SEEM OKAY, I’M DOING MY WORK, I’M GETTING SHIT DONE - SO I MUST BE OKAY. RIGHT?

I am listening

I am listening to them tell me how desperate they are for help. How hopeless they feel. hopeless. hopeless. a word that sucks every other word dry. i am listening to them tell me how they have no money to pay the rent. no lawyers to represent them in their divorce. no car. no job. no friends. no family. no family. no family.

i listen to them as they tell me what it was like to look into his eyes while he strangled her. the darkness that sunk in. what was missing. i listen to them tell me about where the fork went into their neck. where the blood was on the walls.

in the background, i hear the serenity prayer. i listen for what i cannot control. i listen for what i can. all while, I listen to them yearn for help. for freedom. for change.

and then i hear the voice that tells me that i am not enough. or maybe i am too much. or that i am doing it wrong. i hear it. i never disagree.

then comes in the voice that tells me i am unlovable. unworthy. not beautiful. not smart. i listen to that too. the more i listen, the louder it gets.

and then i hear a small voice of hope. hope. hope.

it asks 'is it true?’

and i listen for the answer.

WHAT I AM LISTENING 2

I'M LISTENING TO THE AUDIOBOOK ANGELA'S ASHES, A MEMOIR WRITTEN BY FRANCIS MCCOURT, AN IRISH-AMERICAN. MY DAD RECENTLY BECAME AN IRISH CITIZEN. BY THE TIME DAD WAS 25, EVERYONE IN HIS IMMEDIATE AND EXTENDED FAMILY--ASIDE FROM ONE BROTHER--WAS DEAD. DAD'S PARENTS WERE BORN 115 YEARS AGO, AND WHAT I KNEW FROM THEM CAME FROM WHAT I ENVISIONED FROM HIS STORYTELLING. LISTENING TO MCCOURT DETAIL HIS LIFE HISTORY, BRIDGED TOGETHER WITH DAD'S STORIES, FEELS LIKE MY FIRST ENCOUNTER WITH MY LARGE IRISH FAMILY THAT HAVE HERETOFORE ONLY BEEN CARRIED ON BY THE VOICE OF MY FATHER.

WHAT AM I LISTENING TO

WHEN FIRST ASKED THIS QUESTION IT FELT STRAIGHT FORWARD. I PULLED OUT MY PHONE AND LOOKED AT MY LATEST SONG CHOICES: LADY LUCK BY KENNY LOGGINS, ODD CHOICE BUT GIVING ME MID DECEMBER, FUCK MY JOB, I JUST WANT TO BE HIGH SINGING BILLY JOEL IN A KARAOKE BAR FILLED WITH 60-80 SOMETHINGS HAVING A BLAST. I ALSO HAVE BEEN LISTENING TO SOUL AND JAZZ ALBUMS RELEASED THIS YEAR; CALMING, SEROTONIN RELEASING, PASSIVE, RELEVANT AND COMPLEX MUSIC. AND ON TOP OF THAT, THERE IS ALWAYS A REOCCURRING SOUND OF RAGE IN MY ROTATION, CURRENTLY THAT RAGE IS MANIFESTED AS TOOL SONGS. 

THEN I STARTED THINKING ABOUT WHY I'VE BEEN LISTENING TO MUSIC LIKE THIS. TWINKLING MUSIC. THOUGHTFUL MUSIC. POUNDING MUSIC. MOST OF IT MATCHES MY EMOTIONS. BOUNDLESS JOY, NOSTALGIA, CURIOSITY, INSECURITY, FEMININE RAGE... THAT'S WHY I LISTEN TO MUSIC. TO AMPLIFY MY CURRENT MOOD. OR TO BRING ABOUT MY MOOD WHEN IT IS HIDING BEHIND SHAME OR DOUBT. MUSIC HELPS US FEEL THINGS WE DON'T UNDERSTAND AND HELPS RELEASE EMOTION FROM OUR BODIES. NOTHING LIKE BELTING OUT YOUR FAVORITE SONG IN THE CAR, OR DANCING WITH YOUR FRIENDS IN THE LIVING ROOM TO A SONG YOU ALL LOVED IN THE 7TH GRADE. I NEED IT TO SURVIVE. AND I'M GRATEFUL TO THOSE WHO CAN EXPRESS THEMSELVES THROUGH MUSIC. THEY ARE TEACHING THE REST OF US HOW TO FEEL.

I AM LISTENING TO

I'M LISTENING TO A CHAINSAW RIPPING APART MY NEIGHBORS PINE TREES AT 9 AM. I'M
LISTENING TO THE SAME 3 PLAYLISTS I'VE HAD ON REPEAT FOR THE PAST 3 MONTHS • TRYING TO FIND STRUCTURE AND PEACE IN SOMETHING SAFE AND KNOWN BUT JUST FINDING NEVER ENDING LOOPS OF REPETITION • IM LISTENING TO THE FULL SILENCE THAT WINTER BRINGS AND THE COMFORTING SOLITUDE OF THE DARK

GREEN BLESSINGS

SPORT

ESPN COMMENTATORS AND THE SOUND OF SQUEAKY BALLER SHOES

LISTEN TO

I AM LISTENING TO:

...THE RAIN AND SIDEWAYS WIND OUTSIDE ON THE PANED WINDOWS, GENTLY KNOCKING AGAINST THEMSELVES. 

...THE DAY-OLD PIZZA SIZZLE IN THE WARMING OVEN. 

...MY FINGERS CLICK AT KEYS, SO TIRED FROM DOING SO BUT AGREEING TO DO IT A FEW MORE DAYS, I GUESS TO EARN A PAYCHECK, I GUESS I'M NOT SURE. 

...THE CREAK OF MY CHAIR AS I KICK MY LEGS AIMLESSLY BELOW. YES I AM THAT SHORT. 

...GREGORY ALAN ISAKOV AS WE SWERVE AND WEAVE AND DIP THROUGH GREEN AND RED PEATED MOUNTAINS THAT RISE IN MIST, INTO NOTHING. HAVE YOU EVER PLAYED THE BANJO? I ASK OUT LOUD.

...THAT HEART FLUTTER IN MY CHEST I'VE BEEN A LITTLE BIT WORRIED ABOUT, THE WEIRD ARRHYTHMIC RACING THAT HAPPENS ON OCCASION. IT'S NOTHING, RIGHT?  

...MY PARTNER EDIT PHOTOS OF OUR DAY IN THE MOUNTAINS, BUT HONESTLY HE'S SO QUIET, HE DOESN'T EVEN REACT.

...MY BONES HEALING UNDER MY SKIN UNDER MY MUSCLE UNDER MY TENDONS, THEY HEAL. OR HAVE HEALED. SO THE DOCTORS SAY. BUT I AM LISTENING CLOSE IN CASE THEY RELIABLY UNRELIABLY CRACK AGAIN.