#realwriter

 Whenever I’m anxious, I turn to George Ezra. Don’t ask me why, but regardless of the song he is singing, he calms me down. His music is most definitely beautiful, but that is not what soothes me. It’s his voice specifically. It is deep, and strong. But he doesn’t abuse that power. His voice reminds me of home. Not necessarily my physical home, but the home in my soul. And my thoughts. His voice fills my ears, and trails down to my heart. It’s an odd thing to say, but when I listen to him I see my dreams. Like somehow he holds them. I see myself traveling to Italy, eating gelato while looking out at the cool blue horizon. Biking down the cobblestone streets on a yellow bike. Going to the market to buy fresh produce on a hot summer day. Drinking espresso at the local cafe and gazing at the colorful villas. Strolling through vineyards at dawn and running through sunflowers at dusk. He is that reminder I believe everyone needs. To keep striving for your dreams and doing what you love. To work hard, but also to enjoy the ride. And he may not necessarily be your reminder, and that’s okay. But I am glad that he is mine. He gives me hope.

So, to my dear George: Thank you. Although you have no idea I exist, I know that you do. And I am sure as hell grateful for that.

“We counted all our reasons, excuses though we made

We found ourselves some treasure, and threw it all away, ooh

What you waiting for?

No, what you waiting for?”;

i wanna go large like saber,