laying on the floor & realizing time [really] doesn’t stop for anything

cover photo by: Dorien monnens

🌙 Hi, welcome back

lately i’ve been laying on my floor a lot.

i read somewhere that sometimes it’s harder for people to fall asleep when they frequently do things [other than sleep] while sitting or laying in bed. this happens because your brain can start to associate your bed with being awake or active rather than associating it with sleep. in result of learning this i’ve started doing things i would normally do in bed, on the floor; listening to music, reading, journaling, editing photos…etc. i will admit listening to music and letting myself [just] be has overtaken the rest lately.

sometimes there are these moments where I realize how much of an influence the music i listen to has over my life. it gives me a safe space to think and feel in the comfort of my own company. whether it’s one song that sparks an entire nights worth of new thoughts or an incredibly specific playlist i created for a niche part of myself. with that, it’s not always the lyrics but more so the energy of a given track that influences how i think and feel.

last night i was laying on the floor listening to a slowed + reverb version of “white ferrari” by the one and only; frank ocean.

*PAUSE*

i wholeheartedly believe that when i see frank ocean perform live someday, my soul will probably transcend. live performances already hold such a special place in my heart but frank… that would be something else.

*play*

so, I was laying on my floor, looking up at my ceiling, listening to white ferrari, playing back recent memories and ones from years ago in my head and thinking about what a crazy feeling nostalgia can be. I’ve been feeling it a lot lately but it was different this time. more a sudden realization that i’ll [really] never get those moments back.

you hear clichés about growing up all the time when you’re too young to really understand what they’re referring too. then suddenly, you’re present, and you realize you’re existing in another moment you won’t ever get back. it’s saddening and extremely beautiful at the same time. it felt similar to how i feel when i’m watching a sunset.

i love and i hate it. i admire it and despise it because i know it won’t last forever. and the thing is, up until lately, i used to truly believe that things could or would. not because it would be logical or even possible. more so because it felt better to hold onto blind optimism in the impossible than to accept what i endlessly tried so hard not to.

the beginnings and endings, the heartbreaks and healing, the memories and wishes, the hellos and goodbyes. the people i love and all the ways they’ve played into this. all the moments of my life that no longer exist outside whatever memory i have of them. how finite and precious it all is.

all the time that has passed and the uncertainty of how much is left. the fact that time doesn’t and won’t stop for anything. how often and necessary it is to just let go. and so tonight, i cried.

honestly, that’s not even a surprise [that i cried] and that was a dramatic ass lead up. i’m not sorry though. as [playwright and theater artist] jeremy o. harris would say, “everything is theater”.

I cried and this time there wasn’t a specific emotion i could name that accompanied it. if anything it’s a great release that happens to be manifesting as tears.

did i feel slightly dehydrated afterward? yes.

does that post-cry glow still slap? yes.

the point is, i think it’s interesting when realizations like this occur in the way that they do. when something just clicks and you finally understand. whether you needed it to make a decision or to generally move forward in life. maybe sometimes we need physical releases in order to not necessarily move on but to move forward.

i’d like to believe that our experiences are specifically designed to happen in divine timing and all of this releasing is necessary in order to step into a new chapter; a better, more loving, more exciting, more abundant chapter. a chapter that allows us to hold onto the things that help us in all the best ways; that replaces whatever we had to let go with things unimaginably better.

maybe this whole things is about the way we give and take. the way we shift and learn to trust over and over again. the way we choose to pick ourselves and other up in order to just keep going. maybe that’s all we really have.

maybe at the end of the day that’s the only constant choice we’re given until we aren’t. through that lens, blind optimism doesn’t always seem like such a bad idea.

as always, all love 4 eva ♥️

xx, -des