Random Streaming

I was walking back to my room the other night.
It was particularly cold outside and I wasn't particularly dressed for the occasion.
Yet I have always had the ability to block out the cold, just not focus my attention on it.
It's like creating this artificial warmth that envelopes me, if only for the brief walk back to my room.
Or maybe I'm just numb to the cold (or is the cold making me numb? I suppose it's irrelevant...)

While this is going on, it occurs to me that I can't apply this same technique anywhere else.
If I'm lonely, I can't just pretend you're here (I've tried and it never works, and so I've stopped trying.)
Come to think of it, I guess that's really one of the only situations where that technique doesn't work.
But how I wish it did work in that situation.
I'd trade a thousand freezing walks in the cold for your warmth, which certainly isn't artificial.
It's as natural as I can imagine, you don't even need to try.

....................................................................

(I guess a string of periods is as good of a way to separate disjoint lines of thought as any...)

I've said this for a while (I guess not really said it, but I've certainly thought it), but music really is my passion.
And I really mean that; I feel like people say it way too often and they don't really mean it.
Just because you like to blast music in your room doesn't mean it's your passion.
You might be able to hear it, but that doesn't mean you're listening to it.
You want to know if music is really at your core?
Turn the volume down, play it really soft.
It should still feel just as loud to you, it should still hit you just as hard.
Even music at the lowest of volumes can take physical manifestation in my head.
It's like a mountain that I can't scale, but damn do I love the climb.
Hell, just turn the music off completely, if it means something to you then you should still hear it anyway.

I've found myself getting lost in music quite often recently, but that's a great place to be lost.
It really isn't fair to say I'm lost either when I'm more than happy to be there.
It's even more unfair to call it lost when generally that's where I'm trying to get to.
And yet lost just seems to make sense.
Perhaps engulfed would be a better choice of vernacular.
It's like the moment after a towering tidal wave crashes down on the shore and sweeps you in.
You can try to fight it, but it's worthless, you're at the whim of the water, if only for those few moments.
I try to stretch those moments into minutes, hours even.
I don't want to just get caught in the undertow, I want to get sucked in and end up lost at sea.
(There's that lost word again, I couldn't get rid of it completely.)

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(How about dashes this time, just to mix things up)

I find myself in constant search of this feeling.
It's a damn hard search though, because I don't even know what the feeling is.
All I know is that's what I want, or at least it's what I think I want.
Sometimes I think I've found it, but then I convince myself it's not it.
I don't want the search to end, I like to think that the search shouldn't be this short term.
This should be a long, sprawling quest that takes me in a multitude of different directions.

Perhaps it's the search itself that provides the feeling.
Wouldn't that be interesting? A search for a feeling that can only be provided by that very search?
Sounds like I better keep searching if I want to find anything.