All quiet

When I was back from work the house seemed calm and whisperful, while it thundered outside, and I found some people who had locked themselves behind doors away from each other and us because sometimes when you are a mother you cry trying to remember what started it all and sometimes when you are a boy you just want to hurt everyone like you are hurt. For me, I see why some people who I could never understand before want to pull over themselves work and offices and things that are so importantly gray and silent, I think it must be because it is simple compared to the enterprise of families and fathers, because your heart can fall asleep. My heart has been still all day since it started hurting at noon but I am OK in an odd way and the second thing I did here was I walked in the rain and now, inside, the bottoms of my jeans are cold and muddy and I remember I am home whatever kind of place home is, and I remember that since I came in the door I have needed my piano my horribly untuned unregulated choppy piano that I beat my fists on more than I play and I don't care I don't care I don't care because even when I don't love anything music still loves me.