I thought I was a superhero from planet Krypton and will never get sick. I thought I was immortal. Darn! I should have knocked on that wood many times!
Anyway, being sick made me stay home — alone — the whole weekend. I have to cancel meet-ups and my radio show, the latter I wasn’t too guilty about because my co-host caught the bug as well. (The Justice Leagueis facing defeat! LOL!)
It’s been two years or so ago that I started scouring the net and found myself cruising through a lot of indie folk music. Artists like Ben Howard, Bon Iver and Ed Sheeran are amongst my top picks. And speaking of top picks, Skinny Love by Bon Iver is right there alongside Ben Howard’s Only Love. There’s just too much heart in indie folk songs that grabs me and moves me.
I love this song. It’s one of the songs I have on loop in my player whenever I’m trying to get inspiration for writing. And it’s just not me that appreciates this song. There are tons of covers done by both amateur and professional artists all over YouTube. It just goes to show that it’s a wonderful song.
So, for this latest post for the Versions segment, I bring you the original version of Bon Iver‘s Skinny Love and a cover by my other favorite – Ed Sheeran. I know that there are like a gazillion views for Birdy’s version in YouTube, but I much rather like a guy singing this song. It felt more heartfelt, I guess.
That’s what my radio co-host would always say when we’re on our final hour and I felt that way now when I got a notification from WordPress that it’s been a year since I’ve been blogging here.
How time flies.
I didn’t even notice that it’s been a year if not for the notification sent by WordPress.
With a smile and a joyous heart, I finally accept the fact that yes, it is true that when you’re enjoying doing something, time becomes irrelevant. You wouldn’t feel yourself dragging out of bed or forcing your fingers to move over the keyboard to write something. You wouldn’t feel drained of any or all ideas to write about. You wouldn’t feel you need to prove something. All you would feel is a sense of rightness after posting something that you’re not expecting 1 million “likes” afterwards.
When you’ve been uprooted several times in your life, the overall sense of having a “home” gets lost somehow. It is sad, but true in every sense of the word H-O-M-E.
Because of my predilection to do a lot of musing, my ever-meandering thoughts brought me to the realization that I never really did have a home. Then, I began to expound on my musing by remembering some people I know who never really appreciated being born, raised and had stayed in one place. They often find a lot of different reasons to get out of the place where they learned everything they knew and where all the people who knew and loved them lived. In short, they don’t appreciate what they have. And for someone who never had that privilege to stay in one place long enough to call it a “home“, I pity them.