I’d like to have a conversation about the things that happen in the places we don’t see. About the memories we never shared and the scars that healed without being acknowledged. I’d like to talk about the balconies with a view to nowhere. About the songs we don’t remember.

There’s a lot going on within me these days and a lot of heartaches I’m looking to figure out. The one thing I can’t help but to notice is how much of everything I see is actually the things I don’t.

We’re nothing but the things we’re not.

I am my empty spaces, my holes, the things I wanted and neved had, the people I miss and the people I long for. I am what remains.

Music is only real amid silence. The rest is just noise.

Had I more talent I’d make this into a song, a song well sang, dedicated to all that is inside the spaces not seen. But talent I have not. And that makes me what I am, just as much as if I did.

I need to get back to work, see ya.