My former partner and bandmate recently had an article come out for her solo record, and I objectively observed how 6 jam-packed years of shared experiences with her was so easily whittled down to a few sentences. It didn't make me feel sad as much as it made me feel so distant from a place I was once neck-deep in. I started thinking about how that kind of stuff happens over and over again in our lifetimes. How stories we're so immersed in become tiny little footnotes. How each skin we shed is full of so many experiences that are just left to die in order to grow new skin. So much gets left out in order to make room for more. Who's the real author? Are we writers or our own destiny, is it fate, God, a mix? That's sort of what I'm alluding to with the whole "dot above the i" thing.
When the novel becomes a chapter
When the chapter becomes a line
When the story you’ve been chasing after
Becomes once upon a time
Tear it up and let it fly
Tell it to somebody in the sky
Punctured and punctuated by
The dot above the i
When a friendship becomes a footnote
When a hug becomes parentheses
When the story you thought you wrote
Becomes whose words were these
5/1/2017 08:39:13 am
Sending your words and songs into the world might only seem like a 'dot on the i' when they are 'summarized', but gives those of us listening a beautiful echo plate to seek your songs out again and to remember our own stories. I thank you very much for writing.
5/1/2017 08:52:00 am
What kind and beautiful words, Troy. Thank you very much for taking the time to write!
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