Music

Living on water and food is normally expected of us. But I live on music. I can go days and weeks without food but barely an hour without music. The simpleness of background music on tv is enough to satisfy my hunger. My entire life I've loved hearing people play music, play it myself, write it. It gives me a sense of being and makes me whole. When life comes crashing down on me, I run to the sweet, warm arms of it's embracing notes. The cool keys of the piano, smooth strings of the vioin, the joy of singing, struming guitar. I feel welcomed, loved. I love hearing the rich warm sounds of violins drifting over the air, wonderfuly soft tones of piano keys being pushed gently. My life's out of control, I can't make anything work the right way, but music comforts me and I can't control it but it works the right way. No matter who doesn't want to listen, music listens. It's oddly comforting to be moving my bow across the strings. It's the only I have left to escape to, people have their opinions and judgements, but music doens't have opinions or judgmental glares. I can be anywhere and still have the comforting words that flow out of my headphones into my longing ears. Nothing is as comforting as the sound of notes. When I write it makes me happy to know the beautiful sounds that come from the strings, keys, lips are mine and I made them. My creations are the only things I can really claim to my name. Something causes me to long to come back to my music to hear my lovely songs come to life. Music comes to life whenever it's played, it springs up and makes you smile, causes you to fall on your knees and cry. It doesn't matter what it makes you do, but it makes you do somthing. Whether it makes you scream out about the pain someone caused you, or if it makes you long for the one person who makes you laugh. It causes you to react to life, good or bad. Music drives my emotions. Without it, I wouldn't know how to express myself. I'm critisized for talking about my emtions, how I talk aout them annoys people. But people will accept music. With my music I can express everything I feel, sharing it with others scares me that they won't like me or what I created. My wonderful creations that saved my heart will also crush a relationship I'm working so hard to keep from shattering. So many stunning people have touched me, through their music, hearts. Now I'm afraid my music will hurt their hearts, make them leave me again. The hurt I felt, caused my music to turn into hatred words and minor keys. Then soft, notes with joy and love, explaining all the love I had inside of me. Soon turning into angry, hurtful words, crawling into sadness and abanonment, music had not created the emotions but it helped them to evolve back into the joy I now felt. No matter what happens, one person knows me best, and they'll keep me moving into my music. I love knowing that I don't have to force my way into music, flowing into it is easier. Inspiration causes my music to take a different shape, but not a different way of speaking. People can change the style, molding it carefully into a new shape. Almost like pouring it into a new mold, letting it keep a shape, until someone else melts it down and pours it into their mold. Each time it changes, it's unique, never the same but with somewhat similar to the previous one. One feature stays the exact same in all of the notes that come out of my instuments, lips. Realistic emotions. Every quarter note, sharp or flat, rest, is important and can't be removed. I feel as if I'm a rest, sharp or flate, solid jet black note. I'm important and I can't be replaced or taken away. Just because people don't know that, doesn't mean music doesn't or I don't. Before my music was hatful, cruel now sad, unwanted. My longing and dependency on music isn't normal, or so I think, but it's all I need to survive. Without it I'd die. I know I need it more than anything in the world. Music is my life and my only food, so no matter who leaves me music won't leave me ever.

Inspired by Bethany Vrieswyk.