What sugary magic is there in romantic aspiration that makes even the most plain and mundane seem potent and lofty? I'm listening to sappy old love songs, which on their own are fantastic enough, and yet they begin a rockin' boogie on the inside. That's right. I said boogie. Boogie, boogie, boogie.
The experiential plusses of what otherwise I would leave lingering on the doorstep of my peripheral contemplation I find now carry me aloft on wings of newfound inspiration. I was listening to Gene Pitney's? "Only Love Can Break a Heart" (only love can mend it again) and felt myself lilting with each cutesy bob and tuck of the melody.
It's rare, I know, but I can say for once w/o any clausal back-door that I am happy, with all of the hopped-up idealism that entails. Whoooooooeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! etc.
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