When I used to live in California, my roommates and I would sort of meet up around the same time every day after work. We'd dick around for an hour or so, talk about what food to cook or whatever, prepare to intoxicate ourselves, and then walk towards Sands Beach in Isla Vista, CA. There we'd then sit in silence and watch the surfers watch the sun sink into the ocean.
I never really remembered us making plans to actually do that, it just turned into something that anywhere from two to seven of us would end up doing anywhere from three to seven nights a week.
Call it instictual, call it habit, call it the perfect time to separate mind from body, but it turned into something that I sort of carried with me into my early adult years. Now that I'm over 35, I don't have the luxury of enjoying a sunset every day, because my life is filled with my kids' practices, and meetings, and meetings, and fucking meetings about other fucking meetings that somehow require meetings to discuss the aforementioned meetings.
WHERE AM I GOING WITH THIS?
Once a fucking gain, Hanging Valleys has created a song that reminds me of my previous ability to shut the fuck up and let something wash over me. Whether it was the sunset at Sands, a song on the couch, a scene unraveling in front of me where I'm being hugged by a friend I only ever now see once every decade. "T.B.D." makes me wish every song I listen to could paint me calm like this one can.
Also, whenever I chat with the Hanging Valleys fellow Thom, I tell him to paint me like one of his french girls.
Fuck Hanging Valleys for making me so fucking relaxed when I have so much work to fucking do, GASP, before my next meeting.
I miss Sands Beach with all of the trash and assholes.
*PSST* I WAS ONE OF THE TRASHY ASSHOLES BACK IN THE DAY YO!