This is an excerpt from a work in progress called the Playlist Date.

Diana

With a loud yawn, I stretched my arms and suddenly remembered that I had dozed off after work. My sleepy eyes soaked in my black work bag in the corner. I noticed my vegan purse and my athletic shoes tossed without care. Long commutes tend to drain my energy, and I truly dislike them. They can be expensive too, but honestly, who minds? It’s another Friday night. Most of my friends are out enjoying themselves. At forty-two years young, I’ve lost interest in clubs and bustling streets.

Looking around me, I see everything I need. My cat Snuggles is a big black domestic cat. He takes up half of my bed, fast asleep. My clock is yelling it’s 12 midnight. The glow of my smart TV and my automatic Christmas candle lights are staring at me. As I sit in the cozy embrace of my room, the world outside fades into a distant memory. The holiday season’s warmth envelops me like a soft blanket. I can’t help but feel a sense of contentment. The flickering lights create a gentle ambiance, casting playful shadows that dance along the walls.

I finger the edge of my silver mac book pro and quickly log into my social media account. A few weeks ago, I finally broke down and added myself to the Play this Playlist Facebook group. It’s a group where music lovers gather to discuss all things music but especially music songs and playlists. 

While scrolling through the group, I come across a few intriguing threads that I feel compelled to respond to. Suddenly, I hear a notification from my instant messenger. It’s “MusicManChitown” once again sharing his weekly song list. I’m curious to see what he has selected, especially since his musical preferences often align with mine. He includes several tracks from traditional R&B, neo-soul, and pop genres. Occasionally, we engage in musical debates within our groups and even go live to discuss our favorite tunes. Recently, whenever I check and reply to his messages, I feel a sense of care. It leads me to ponder if our connection would be deeper than just a quick chat. What if we were to meet in person?

Brushing those thoughts away, I comment on the thread about Lucky Daye and October London. Both of these musical artists have a place in our life. We don’t need to have a battle between them. I tend to love both of the musical artists on different vibes. Lucky Daye when I want something sultry and edgy. Then October London when I want something truly smooth with grooves. 

My handle is Dee Loves Musiq. I often get hassled in the group. This happens because someone revealed that I can actually sing. It’s not my fault. My mom was a gospel singer. My father, the rolling stone, was a jazz artist who never was around. My house was full of joy and music despite the challenge of growing up without a father. Shaking those thoughts off, I began to rise, lifting my thick thighs. I pushed my covers off and cuddled my laptop closer. I was filled with thoughts of a brand new weekend full of wonder. The excitement of the weekend ahead fills me with a sense of anticipation. I decide to explore some new music recommendations and perhaps even share a recording or two with the group. After all, music has always been my way of connecting with the world. I can do this even from the comfort of my cozy bedroom.

Snuggles stirs slightly, letting out a contented purr before settling back into his slumber. I smile, feeling grateful for these quiet, cherished moments. The idea of sharing a bit more of myself with the group crosses my mind again. Maybe it’s time to let them hear my voice, the one I’ve kept hidden for so long. It’s not just about the music. It’s about sharing a piece of who I am. I want to connect with a community that understands and appreciates the same vibrations.

With a renewed sense of purpose, I start curating a playlist that speaks to my soul. I hope it will resonate with others too. The possibility of creating new connections, sparked by shared melodies and harmonies, fills me with a warm sense of belonging. I decide to post a message in the group. I invite anyone interested to join me in a live session later this weekend. Perhaps MusicManChitown will be there, and we can finally put a voice to the words we’ve been exchanging.

(c) 2024 by Mocha Sistah