He walked swift through the halls of the office, always accompanied by a self-made melody. No one could make out what exactly he was humming, but it was always something. Was that a hint of Britney or even Foster the People or maybe some old school Beatles? No one really knew. Some would ask him about it and he’d always answer that it is the last thing that he listened to, whatever that was. Iggy or maybe Beyoncé?

Today was no different than any other day. The Hummer ambled along by me with the slight out of tune hum of a familiar melody. “Hey,” I said. “Hey” was all he managed and then he’s gone. The faint hum quieted and soon it was replaced by another familiar hum, that of the air conditioning system. Such a mystery and no one really knew much about him. Someone needed to figure him out and let the world know the mystery that was the hummer. Someone needed to do it and I had decided that it might as well be me.

* * *

Started on a new short story today. I thought I would just come in and just start writing, but then I stopped. My mind started to wander and I lost my train of thought as I started to surf the internet and did other things. I get so easily distracted now or maybe things are just so random in my head that I can’t focus on anything or maybe today isn’t one of my normal days because I plan on leaving a little early to get to a short film festival in Hollywood later.

There are just so many reasons as to why I can’t write. I still haven’t finished my other short story yet and here I am starting another one. One thing at a time man, one thing at a time.

I still need to refocus back on my scripts too. I’m so lazy that all I want to do is just sit home and watch tv. Maybe I just need to come up with a schedule like how Scott writes 20 minutes or so a day after work in the library. That’s maybe one thing that I have to do, since I’m waking up earlier and earlier now. Who knows what will happen.

* * *

It’s a new day and all I did for the first half of this writing session was read over my last section for The Gentle Listener, catching myself up, getting back into the flow of the story and then just stared at the last paragraph over and over again.

Then, my mind wandered to Spotify, me finding some new c-pop playlists and then hearing some Jacky Cheung and then me finding some Jacky Cheung playlists.

This is where I am now, listening to some Jacky Cheung and fucking around, so I decided why not just blog instead. Just why not.

* * *

There was a little surprised today when I walked into Volcano and saw that Iris was working. Plus in my book and then another plus was the finding of some Jacky Cheung on Spotify. There’s one album that is available for streaming, so I’ll have to check it out. It’s a live album, and most likely it’ll be all new music that I never heard before.

I love love his old stuff. They are classic and I just love them.

* * *

Today just isn’t a good day on the writing front. This whole weekend just isn’t a good day. I don’t understand it. Maybe the weird schedule from yesterday threw me off

Just maybe.

My mind just wants to wander today. It seems to just want to wander all the time and put aside the work that I have to do and not finish anything. So weird. I don’t know what it is, but I just can’t focus on anything.

It’s not as bad as before therapy, but it’s there.

Maybe I’m just wanting to sit back and listen to the nostalgia that is blasting through my ears, letting my mind wander, tripping back to better times, different times, and other times.

Man, these songs just flood me with warmth and happiness from a different time, which is a little weird since they were such an angsty time for me. High school. College. They weren’t the happiest of times for me, but this music just gives me the hearty feels.

Maybe it was just that it was a time when we were all together. My family was together. There hadn’t been any big deaths in the family. Grandparents were still alive, my dad was still here, uncles and aunt.

It was a different time back then.

Songs. Nostalgia. How we these soft melodies get attached to random memories and feelings.

I’m laying on that burgundy maroon purple couch in the living room, plugged into my little Sanyo cd player and just listening to the music. Not watching tv. Not even reading. Just listening to the music.

And now, I get the angst of that time. The isolation and alienation I felt at school. I was so lonely and it comes through to the music.

Music attached itself to a different time, to a different me.

Man, how have I changed? I’m a different man. I’m a different person.

Growth.

Maybe that’s the thing about nostalgia. It doesn’t become nostalgia until you have become something else from the time of these memories. Maybe.

I wonder how I’ll react to the music I listen now in the future? What kind of nostalgic memories would they bring to mind? What kind of feelings?

* * *

Today just isn’t one of those good writing days.