sated

I wrote about comfort food, and somehow I cannot escape the metaphors of appetite. I thought of it again today as I rifled through CDs hungry for a certain track, a certain album, a certain accoustic moment that spoke to my mood. Even if you're not a Luddite like me and you have left behind the delicious tactile moments of CDs, LPs, cassette tapes, there are still times that a song surfaces and you must search it out so it can help you feel what you're feeling. And so the search begins through closets, across desktops, through drawers and under papers, until I find what I needed for momentary transendence.