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I've been feeling less inclined to speak recently, and I've been worried about losing my ability to communicate.
I keep a journal, but record keeping feels different from communicating to an audience. (I do get a kick out of record keeping though, no hate to record keeping!! I have this internal bit where I think if I had been born in a large-scale, pre-industrial, agrarian society, I would've been a scribe.) It feels like it's gotten harder in the last few years to put words to my experiences. I'm not sure whether that's because my experiences have gotten harder to articulate with language or whether I've fallen out of practice with it because of (post-)pandemic isolation, relationship changes, writing less, etc
I haven't earnestly written anything for a few years. I work as a software engineer and I feel lucky to have this job and career, but recently I've become more aware of how much my day to day involves logical, systems-oriented thinking and how practiced I've become in that way of living. I'd like to have a practice of connecting with the parts of myself that don't analyze or categorize, that feel connected to sensuality, pleasure, and vitality.
Anyway, here's a song I've been into recently :
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Mary Herbert
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The best things to happen to me individually were the worst things to happen to my marriage. And then, this: But the best things remain. - Maggie Smith, You Could Make This Place Beautiful
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Amanda Ba (@amandapandaba)
Lover; She is Reading
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Emma Kohlmann (American, 1989) - Imaginary Menagerie #2 (2019)
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