we both hugged. both we hugged.

Oh my god, this album. Listen to it only by yourself. Wear stereo headphones. Lay your body down supine and stare at the ceiling, or nothing - stare at nothing at all. Register no sense beyond audial. Breathe. Carefully select one or maybe two people to tell about this album and no more. Appreciate the silence and its careful interaction with each note.

Put it down slowly, your skull, so as to not spill its contents out of its orifices. Hug yourself. I don't know - I actually don't. Think about restructuring your unique genetic code just slightly. Wrap your undernourished arms around someone and hold them for longer than is comfortable for them to want to be held just then. Put on a fucking life preserver.

We are on The Antlers - Hospice. Beautiful and eviscerating bone and other once sturdy structures of the body. Actually.

Actually - you are off the reservation. And this will do nothing to reel you back in. Off the reservation and screaming at the disc of the sun at the top of your lungs - mouth open to fullest capacity, jaw aching, head quivering, eyes shut tight, molars showing, hands fists grabbing the ears ... we said something that meant a lot to each of us just then, but it disappeared. and we both hugged. both we hugged. like life itself existed in the other and was needing to be held there. and it did - need it.

Think about, for just a minute, what it would be like to be the one that chose to spend his/her life with you - appreciate that feeling. And use it every day.