There’s Something About Queer Love I Want to Say
Daft Punk and letting go
My bedroom is cool. It is late. The sun set hours ago probably, but time doesn’t hold much purpose right now.
My bed feels like a cocoon gently floating at the speed of light while, in my room, time stands still. The coolness of the summer night means that I can hide under the blanket while wrapping my bare leg outside on top of it. A pleasant light breeze blows through the open window every 30 seconds or so as if to tether me to a reality and remind me it’s there when I’m ready.
When I peek out from under the blanket, I see pieces of the moon through the leaves of a tree outside the window. Its crescent shape wanes. I put my head back under the covers except for my ear. The wind rustling through the leaves is comforting, and I need comfort.
We remember feelings. We remember emotions. These instinctive states of mind are among the original tools that the world gave us. They are the letters of a primordial alphabet whose language is eternal. Music, the expression of these senses, like…