Every time ~ Ethel Cain
Do you ever wish you had an hour of your life to just sit and have a conversation you never had? An hour to hold space for someone to tell their story. Tell that someone you see them in your dreams, that the dream feels so real that you could reach out and touch their face. Their eyes looking back at you like you were lost but two decades were nothing – you are back there on an imaginary bench wanting to finish a conversation that never started. To tell your side of the story, this piece of you that keeps coming back in various shapes of memories. I swear, someone is sitting there watching these two pieces pass by every single time like parallel pendulums, swinging back and forth never stopping in the middle for a minute. Do people really connect subconsciously? Sending morse code to each other’s brains?. Or is it just a story in your head that you tell yourself. What is the mess in your head that you want or feel the need to clean up? Like a borrowed book you forgot to return. You go insane just thinking what is happening to you, why the suppressed memories just bubble up inside you and before you know it they turn into waves crashing over you. You have lost hours by being in your head. It’s 1:00 am and you just want to have that one hour of your life for that one conversation you were never brave enough to have. In the age of where communication is instant, you write a paragraph hoping someone will trip over and find it. Are we allowed to feel these strong feelings for no rhyme or reason? Melancholy is a bi*tch!. Beautiful, broken and just as bad.
Missing Soundtrack 