I’ve got to tell you loafe, I am getting crazy for those $500 headphones. You have no idea. I can’t stop thinking about them, how much better they are than anything I have, all the great things those headphones can bring to my life, how deliciously cozy they’ll be, slipping into my ears and engulfing me, their warm sweetness swirling around in my eardrums, licking my canals, dripping their plump juicy notes into my cochlea, vibrating with deep bass and pure crystalline treble.
I’m here at work, trying to concentrate, wearing these stupid lousy ear buds that cost me $40 or something lame like that, and I hate them. They make nothing drip, vibrate, dance. They do their job, sure. I can hear my music and it’s okay I suppose, nothing fancy or special, but at least they’re here for me when I need them. They don’t hurt me and they are here, right here, offering me their simple, basic, loyal sound, this very second. No longing, no waiting, no desire.
But these ears of mine, oh how they ache. They have a taste for the exotic, they’ve seen behind the curtain, and they are craving and yearning for so much more than ordinary.
They know, we know, all that is missing. So much mystery, so much rich sonic pleasure, residing just above and below me, but I can’t get at it, not from this place where me and my current headphones sit, this area of serviceable, unadorned sound.
But those $500 headphones? I know they can bring me to such great heights, I know this, and I must have them. owning them is the only thing that will quiet the fury inside me.
- you don’t want to read this post.
- thursday divinity. a day late and a buck short.