"...If you're a saint, you sleep easy thinking your righteous, even with blood on your hands. And if you're a savage? Well a savage just don't give a fuck... Now, at what point does the saint become the savage?"
It’s 430 in the morning. My sister and I switched off around 230 on checking on my dad. He’s not having a good night and I’m worried he’ll need help getting up or getting comfy and I don’t want him to do it alone. We’ve already helped him a few times. I know I could probably fall asleep at this point but I’m nervous I’ll miss something. I also think he’s sleeping better knowing I’m here with him. I’ve signed on to ensure we have my dad as long as it takes and I don’t take that responsibility lightly. He’s not feeling strong enough to fight this fight so I want to offer him any strength or comfort I can.
I’m in the same living room I was in in 2017 when my gramma was sick with the flu about 6 months before she passed. I couldn’t sleep that night either because I was afraid she was going to wander, though that was partially because she was a little delirious. I remember being awake at 430 in the morning that day I stayed up with Gloria and I watched a live stream of one of my favorite bands, they were doing q&as. I remember I was laugh-crying at some of their banter and it was such a mixed bag feeling. My gramma woke up not long after that and sat at the end of the couch and asked if I was ok, in her mind she was taking care of me. I eventually got her to eat some Honey Nut Cheerios with me at 6 am, and drink a little water as well. My sister and I switched off at 730 that morning and I couldn’t sleep for more than a few hours, my body just wouldn’t let me. That’s what I still feel now. Just, awake.
Gloria with the flu was a rough week and I wonder if I’m in for that again this week. Everything is changing day by day, sometimes even halfway through it’s just like, whiplash. Things feel ok and then we slam the breaks but wait it’s actually ok but wait something else is happening. It’s so much. But at the same time it’s all fine, we just take it all as it comes. Some things in life are so complicated and it’s so odd to feel 2 conflicting feelings at once. Anyways that’s my shout into the void. Bye 👋🏼
What gets me is that initial pause. The bird knows this song. He knows when the drum comes in. Being able to anticipate musical rhythm is a form of intelligence very few species have, and this is the most remarkable example of it I’ve ever seen in a bird. The cockatoo knew to wait for the drums.
rhythmic awareness: a prerequisite of language evolution
