I write this paragraph by Stephen King everywhere, in all of my journals and sketchbooks. Nothing has ever resonated with me so deeply:
"The most important things are the hardest things to say. They are the things you get ashamed of, because words diminish them - words shrink things that seemed limitless when they were in your head to no more than living size when they’re brought out. But it’s more than that, isn’t it? The most important things lie too close to wherever your secret heart is buried, like landmarks to a treasure your enemies would love to steal away. And you may make revelations that cost you dearly only to have people look at you in a funny way, not understanding what you’ve said at all, or why you thought it so important that you almost cried while you were saying it. That’s the worst, I think. When the secret stays locked within not for want of a teller but for want of an understanding ear." - Stephen King [The Body]
I've been buying pretty things lately to make myself feel a bit better. I'm moving in September and I can't help but collect things for my future apartment to make the space feel like my own. If I can't nest I never feel at home. I've also been buying too many clothes and records, and I also bought a 'new' record player, a 1979 Pioneer that I'm kind of obsessed with. I used to have a portable '60s model but it kept going wrong and I couldn't be done with servicing it constantly anymore so gave up and bought a Crosley Cruiser. Something modern that would require zero effort, just plug in and play. It served me well, but I was worried about what it could be doing to my records and the sound quality wasn't up to much so figured it was time to move on and get a real player. I am completely in love.
To finish, here's one of my favourite songs for no reason whatsoever. Enjoy it.