We’ve been in the South for around a week now. I feel like the southern molasses that lies within the voices of the people that live down here is quietly being absorbed into the basis of my subconscious. I don’t like the feeling. It seems as though something is churning my character slow enough to manipulate me into thinking it isn’t. I don’t know why I don’t like the churning to be done by that of the south. Maybe because everyone I encounter is so different from me. Like, I have absolutely no clue what these people listen to music-wise. I imagine it be some country star with the name Toby and/or Keith involved. Everything I feel they listen to sounds like royalty-free youtube music in my head. Can people actually like something so mind-numbingly simple? Despite this characteristic I projected onto everyone down here, every single person I’ve crossed paths with is one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. Encountering people walking down the street doesn’t only include a head nod and porcelain smile, but a full vocal drawl “How are you?- That’s good!” Their care processes warmly in the shallows of my heart. Fluttering it with soft airy feathers and yet not crossing too deep into any ‘too close for comfort’ territory. Everything means something even if it lies within a two second flirtation. A single glance of eyes has the intention of wishing health and wealth upon you and your family despite it only being a glance. It makes me want to let any of these people into my home and try to make them a nice spaghetti dinner only for them to take the utensils from me and make me the most delicious biscuits and gravy I’ve ever had in my life. Is it the confidence in simplicity that is the secret to living a fulfilling life? Maybe royalty-free youtube music is all the music I need. I think this as I listen to The White Stripes allegorical rendition of Bob Dylan’s “One More Cup Of Coffee (Valley Below).” “One more cup of coffee for the road. One more cup of coffee before I go. To the valley below.” How could I not experience existential dread when this is what I surround myself with on the daily. My favorite part of this southern excursion is the encounter I just had in a quaintly quiet yet urban coffee shop in the bustling college cobblestone town of Birmingham, Alabama. I walked into the shop and the usual aroma of coffee took my body off the ground into a glowing raise (I don’t drink coffee, but I wish I did). A person you could judge as a stamp of approval that Gen-Z exists asked what I wanted and I gave an idk yet vocal with big smile. They said no problem and walked away. I decided my order and gave my attention back to the counter. Instead of the Gen-Z spectacle, there sat a girl about 12 years old with the posture of a middle aged woman who’s never skipped a pack of cigarettes a single day in her life. Her teeth stuck out like two planks of wood you could’ve carved a country tall tale onto. She spoke with a southern drawl that carried along with it a friend near and dear named lisp. The two complimented each other amazingly among her lazy words. Lisp being seen as necessary to clearly decipher what drawl was intending to say with its lethargic falling across consonants. “Wut wood yew like sthir?” She asked with a sincere presence of ‘Yes, I am just like this’. I gave her my order and she replied with a ,”Thsounds good. Thatull be ride out in a feew miniths.” This girl was straight out of huckleberry fin and adapted into a modern day and time. The side character that the main character ends up learning the most valuable lesson from just by finally sitting in silence with them. A true Bubba Gump. I sat down and reveled in the honey she laid with her drawl and the act of life she flung in with her lisp. I sat in the garden of this 12 year old girls character and couldn’t take my eyes away from its natural vividness. “Ur tea iz dun sthir. Thaths a foor minit sthteep.” I grabbed my tea and sat myself back down to write this. Wtf is a four minute steep? I think that means I don’t drink it until four minutes has passed. But does that mean I take out the tea bag after four minutes? Or do I just leave it in there? If I leave it in while I drink that means it’s steeping for longer technically, right? Idk, it tastes incredibly good either way. A warm mint front man with an ensemble of flowery fruited fireworks. Damn. Maybe I should let the south infiltrate. I mean, Robert Johnson is from down here. And without him the music I listen to now wouldn’t even exist. Maybe when it comes to the south, I don’t like that something so different and far from me has such an influence on my character. Like the princess and the pea. But that’s life. Churn away. I can’t wait to see what food I become. The ingredients are vast.