Endless melody

I live in an endless melody. I go through out my life with head phones on. It is the reason that my hearing sucks and the reason that I can deal with the controlling urges of my school and the majority of my peers.
I believe it is the same for most in my family. Dora, dad and me are the worst. Our endless melody like a silent but loud companion that follows us everywhere and anywhere. A faithful servant to our mental stability.
Amongst all the noise and sweet sounds of people doing what others tried to convince them was no way to make a living is mum. Amongst all of it is this quiet British lady who listens to the birds singing gently to each other outside the house of harmonies instead of lyrics and notes of music and verses of bittersweet situations.
I realise that this must be hard for her. To live where endless noise drowns out the singing of the birds. I have a hunch that it would also be linked to the fretful fact that we don’t really care for cleanliness either. The main reason dad would ever clean like a madman and urge his daughters to do the same is because he love mum so.
I know and understand that mum appreciates language and clever people with a talent for rhythm put into song is a wonderful and almost always agonisingly beautiful thing as much as I do and it is something I sometimes have to remind myself of. Leonard Cohen is proof of that.
Naturally the three of us can be very critical of each others sometimes painful taste in what we like. I’m the worst. I have had some really low points. And by low I mean, we’re talking Taylor Swift low. Then again Dora had One Direction so, hot damn, maybe my past terrible taste wasn’t that bad. I can’t for the life of me think of a bad band or singer for dad but I’m sure he has his own ghosts of horror. Either way we have all had those low points.

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