Of bubbles, backspaces, and a fucked up playlist... ___________________________________________
Bubbles are pretty in a cruel kinda way. They show you colours you never imagined existed, seduce you in the most unassuming manner, and just when everything starts looking better, they burst, leaving a mere void behind.
Backspaces mean a lot, words unsaid, or rather unsent… feelings, emotions woven into words, slipping on a cloak of tangibleness, and then being erased… POOF! with just one key, into nothingness!
Backspaces mean nothing, a void, null entities, the emptiness a reminder that probably 60ml golden liquid courage (preferably on the rocks) was needed to hit the send button rather than the backspace button! Backspaces, like bubbles, are beautiful, seductive, in a cruel kinda way. It allows one to live a lie, albeit for a while, if only as novocaine to dull the throbbing angst.
Bubbles and backspaces play their role, deliver what they were created for, and leave nothing behind, if a void could be considered a nonentity. But the trouble begins when some whisky is no longer necessary for Kodaline, Sam Smith or John Mayer to start making sense.
The shattering of a heart is still survivable, but how to survive a fucked up playlist, when every word still reminds me of you?
© Justin Jude Francis
#musings #random #writing #bubbles #backspaces #playlist #music #sad #love #lost #heartbreak #abandon #johnmayer #samsmith #kodaline #angst #pain