Moments Musicaux in D-flat Major, Op. 16, No. 5, Sergei Rachmaninov:

moments musicaux sont fugaces dans votre porte et vous envoyer inévitablement enroulement vers l'arrière dans la passion, le désespoir, l'espoir et l'angoisse

melodies of songs that you swear you’ve heard elsewhere come fades in like someone is turning the volume knob in your direction---back towards where you’re coming from---and of course the memories come---whether or not you asked them to---they come---the good, the bad and the ugly---zooming around you like a battalion of battling buzzing bees---seeking that honey---looking for the real pronounced payoff---there are long walks in the tall grass springtime---out in the country you swore you’d never come back to---there are strolls to the movie theatres in the cities---times just sitting down in the various places when we are struggling to find anything we can to talk about with this new person that we have just met---we are intrigued with each other and we can’t really explain to ourselves why---after all, each and every one of us has been through this pain thing a hundred times, no?  maybe a million---in fact---and the strolls continue---though the parks may vary---we tell each other our likes and dislikes---we embrace the newness of the air like there will be simply no end---even though the phone number exchange may not of even happened yet---or whatever new social connecting fragment now dictates---we know already that we will be seeing this one again---no?---it doesn’t simply speak for itself---the emotion commands---because we don’t know enough about the other person to abort it all yet---because we have not yet the notion to slam our hands down on that big glowing button found to be on the ship’s dashboard---no, we keep flying towards that sun----without an ounce of reality---without a sprinkle of wisdom---we throw it all away in an instant at the sight of a new smile---a new physical and only outer beauty that we thought we might never stumble across again---and as a baby tripping on its own toys---we too find that need to try and walk again towards one another---even though we know full well that this human now newly in our presence could so easily cripple us again---possibly even worse than the last---yes, the one that we assured ourselves that we would never set foot into the realm of the L word again---and still, we deny our own assertions of these statements---we block them off in our own brains just to have a moment of living just and only in the moment itself---the allure of the lie---the allure of the self-deceit---that want to hope for anything better that seems to never die in us humans---it sings at the highest rooftops and fills our hearts---it makes us walk towards another, even if our own legs have been severed---it makes us attempt to embrace another, even if our own arms have been lopped off---we keep on trucking into oblivion & nothing seems able to push us from our course---oh if we can only enjoy the ride---if we can only enjoy the ride---and it echoes out the back way---out the dark alley and away---like a flying saucer fleeing our plane before we try and nab it to tear it apart, dissect it, and make-believe we have any idea what is going on.