on searching for a flightless bird - Paperback

Sometimes before sleep I experience music hallucinations. I, for the first time it feels almost every-time, hear the sound of a silent room. The experience so joyous the rejection of a much earned gasp is granted to ensure the moment last a few moments more. Such a beauty only ruined by the realization that I hear the lack of sound in this room only in revealment of newer more quiet sounds in this room. The sound of a centralized a/c unit in a one-bedroom apartment. Just how the air sounds when cut by the baywood ceiling fan on level 3 hanging from the ceiling by the what sounds like it's metaphoric last leg. How a bed with a body in motion resting upon it truly sounds like during my pre-slumber. A moment so beautiful ruined by a new revealment. Ruined might not be the appropriate term. There's a weird negative connotation applied with ruin. I'm not sure why to be quite honest, for there are many occurrences where ruining things might be to the liking of most southern Americans. Rain ruined outdoor run's in the park with that group of friends you don't like too much. Not having a job ruined marrying that girl you thought you couldn't live without only to find that after leaving the guy she left you for she discovered her inner lesbian goddess. Condoms, when used correctly, ruined teen pregnancy and....well yeah. A moment so beautiful ruined by a newer revealment. Negativity seems not appropriate for this revealment is later on appreciated. These newer more quiet sounds as indecisive and random as they please are contrarily cohesive. Separate they are unheard, together also unheard when in the presence of anything decibel whisper and above, but in this very moment almost appear to be harmonious. They sound like music. I like it.