Tuesday, September 18, 2012
The Music of the Mind
I woke up and listened to Icarus - Purity today.
This song makes me think. Makes me feel like I can study, concentrate. . . but at the same time, somehow it makes me look up into the sky, wish for a falling star, something small, bright..
I look up, I lie back, and I let the power of the music and the light of the moon course through my senses. I feel the damp grass beneath me and the cool breeze. It's almost fall...soon all these trees will be barren, empty as the sky is taken over by the icy clouds of winter. Then, like magic, i'll lie out here again, and I'll watch the delicate snow fall from the sky, melting against my skin as it touches it.
Yet.... that's not for a while. For now, I see only stars, beaming and twinkling in the sky. One day I want to be up there, see the world from afar.
It's nice to be alive today. Things aren't going my way, but I still have my music, and I still have my safe place that only I can access. It's my sanctuary, my oasis, my fortress, my paradise.
Still.... I fear. Now, the song has stopped... and now I look around. I'm not really in the grass. It's not really night and the sky isn't clear. No. It's a blustery end of summer day, and i'm on campus surrounded by people, just sitting here in the corner on my laptop...but wait, the music has started again. Once again I fade away, and the voices become a distant din. Once again i'm invisible inside myself. Once again no one can see the smile I hold.
I'm invisible, don't you know? I hide away and I find joy inside myself. I don't need anyone anymore. I don't feel lonely anymore at night without arms to hold me close. I don't feel guilt and remorse at the thought of those i left behind in reality. I'm free, I'm flying across the beach, pure white sand and clear water below me. I can see straight to the bottom... I can see all the sea creatures, smiling to themselves as they play games in the water. Water has always been so freeing. Now i'm underwater, in flowing clothes, in white...innocent. I don't have to breathe. I simply float, and every movement of my hands I can feel through my whole body as the cool water envelopes me. I can twist and turn, move however i want to, and I can feel it all coursing around me in a vast flow of energy, of still water moved only by my choice. I can swim deeper...deeper... but not too deep. I like the light above. I'm alone, no danger, no foe, no friend. I have no expectations to live up to, no bar to reach, no standards to surpass, no competition to rise above. I'm just me, and I can discover things with ingenuity, passion, fervor, curiosity, and a smile. Now no one can judge me. No one can care. I have no one to disappoint. How freeing, how amazing, how beautiful I feel! I'm worth something here, I'm beautiful.. I'm far from perfect but it's in my reach. God I love it here. I never want to leave, but... reality waits, and the song seems like it's going to end. I don't want to leave...can't I just hit repeat? No... no, I have responsibilities...and just like that, I can't breathe underwater anymore. No, I have to come back from paradise and go back into my shell. Ugh.
Now people will see why my relationships never work. Why I don't think I will ever have a successful friendship or otherwise. After all, the novelty of a breathing stone wears quickly. People want something substantial, not something consistently hidden. I can never bring anyone into my little world. They can't see it, they can't feel it....and if they could I don't think they'd be able to grasp just how important this is to me. I tried once, you know...tried twice, actually. Both times I lacked judgement. Both times my world was tainted. I have to nurse it back to health. To protect it, I will seal it away. This doesn't make me crazy, of course. This makes me aware.
See, now the music changed. Dubstep, how awesome! Now I can look up and around. three beautiful girls around a laptop, three guys laughing and watching them with longing. Then my two friends, Lobo and Miguel, sitting there minding their own business, lost in their amazing worlds of music and art. Sometimes I envy their talent. Miguel can draw anything and it's just... amazing.. I've never met a more talented artist in my life. Lobo can pick up any song in 5 seconds or less on his Mandolin. How cool is that? God, this song makes me want to take up combat again. I wish... Damn ribs, get better quicker!! I need to be as strong again on the outside as I feel on the inside with this song playing.
Ah... I've typed too much! Way too much.... I should stop now. I felt so good just then I thought I would burst. I found myself smiling to myself again. God I love my paradise!!! No, reality must come first. I can smile there too. Maybe I'll keep the happy fissure in my system open, keep smiling, allow it to make me in the best mood today. Let's see how long this lasts.
Wish me luck, beautiful reader!!!
Monday, September 17, 2012
The Breathing Stone
I'm not sure why I've started a blog, really. I don't expect many to read it, and I highly doubt that it'll do me much good at all. Nevertheless, I was encouraged by a friend to try it, and to sate his curiosity and my own, I shall oblige...
What to say? Where to begin? Why to begin? These are the first questions that seep into my mind, and I'm sure this has happened to many others. I don't consider myself very special in the writing or creativity department; I never have really. I suppose I should begin at the spinning of my first thought as I stare at this life sucking device I call my laptop...
Music. I'm not sure why that's the first thing that fluttered in my mind...no wait...now I know.
Music has always been my "key to feeling." I've always had trouble reacting to things with feeling and not logic. Occasionally I'll have a spurt of anger and burst out in an immature fashion, but other than that much of my emotion is fake, forced. It's strange because I used to be quite empathetic...weird, how something in your life can flip you right around and turn you into something you weren't.
If life were as simple as pushing a button or taking a step, I'd excel; but no, it's a life where many of your decisions must come from your heart, where you must feel your audience's "vibes" and react accordingly to please them and move ahead. There is no such thing as self wrought success. It is a necessary part of life if one wishes to move ahead and provide for one's family. Stupid, right? I guess after a few years of trying to feel sorry for someone, trying to love someone else, trying to smile and be happy or excited, one emotion simply stood out above the rest and came naturally - Loneliness.
This is not to say that I felt alone in my struggle to feel, that no one else fought the same inner demon. I'm sure there are many like me...but even if I had met one like me, what good would it be? We'd simply we two beings struggling to feel anything about not feeling anything together. I guess loneliness prevailed simply because I was wanting to be like everyone else I was around. I wanted to be excited and smile and cry - there's something that hasn't happened in a while - and just be all these things. Something is blocking it, right? Well, I found my vice, my little wedge to pry open these walls I've unconsciously built for no reason, it seems.
Music.
Once I slip on the headphones and just shut my eyes and let in the beat of the drums, the tinny twanging of the steel stringed guitar, the soft swelling innocence of the piano, and the underlying support of the bass reverberating through the whole song. Each subtle difference brought out a tiny sliver of emotion that seeped through the infinitesimal breaks in my walls. Music was an infiltrator to my otherwise impervious base of a soul.
The funny thing is, this somehow came as no great shock to me. I felt relief, perhaps, in the knowledge that I was able to feel, that I wasn't some freak who simply mirrored the emotions of others to blend in. I took to listening to music at every available opportunity. Emotion was like a drug coursing through my veins and my soul with tendrils of power formerly unbeknownst to me. It was addictive, and I'd spend hours just laying prone on my floor or bed, my headphones in my ears, blasting different emotions into my mind. Sorrow, anger, peace, joy.... all flowed into a myriad of change, feeding my starved heart with a basis of understanding.
Still a problem remains, though. I can't access these wonderful emotions when I speak to someone in person. When I hear someone say something, I react how logic and observation dictates I should, and then I store the information in my mind for later analysis. More often than not, I'll respond through written or typed messages later on in the day when I've had a chance to process the information, slipping in the appropriate track 5 minutes prior to typing to "feel" my words. If I don't, and I'm pressured into immediate reaction, more often than not it is an immature response, an illogical breach in conduct. Even now, I play music that makes me think, that makes me feel, that makes me try.
I don't feel like an enigma. In fact, I know I'm not. I know I'm just like everyone out there. Something just keeps me from showing it as well. Maybe I'm trying to protect myself? Maybe something happened that made me shut down...maybe that's not a bad thing. I like to think of it as my protection, my own special shield, my invulnerable, impregnable fortress of the soul. I can take any insult, any offense... and not feel a thing. How cool is that?!
This music makes me feel so full of hope, inspired even. Maybe it's the swelling of intensity that rolls down into a calm, almost motherly feel. It makes me feel safe, even if only for the one song. I suppose there's a slight sadness though, in knowing that as soon as I take out the headphones, I'll slip back into my stone shell, become the living statue once again, no heart, only a mind. Still, I don't think there's a safer place for me. Not yet. Not again.
I think I've talked enough for today. The music is almost finished anyway. Till next time, I suppose. Goodbye, beautiful reader. Hello, Breathing Stone.
What to say? Where to begin? Why to begin? These are the first questions that seep into my mind, and I'm sure this has happened to many others. I don't consider myself very special in the writing or creativity department; I never have really. I suppose I should begin at the spinning of my first thought as I stare at this life sucking device I call my laptop...
Music. I'm not sure why that's the first thing that fluttered in my mind...no wait...now I know.
Music has always been my "key to feeling." I've always had trouble reacting to things with feeling and not logic. Occasionally I'll have a spurt of anger and burst out in an immature fashion, but other than that much of my emotion is fake, forced. It's strange because I used to be quite empathetic...weird, how something in your life can flip you right around and turn you into something you weren't.
If life were as simple as pushing a button or taking a step, I'd excel; but no, it's a life where many of your decisions must come from your heart, where you must feel your audience's "vibes" and react accordingly to please them and move ahead. There is no such thing as self wrought success. It is a necessary part of life if one wishes to move ahead and provide for one's family. Stupid, right? I guess after a few years of trying to feel sorry for someone, trying to love someone else, trying to smile and be happy or excited, one emotion simply stood out above the rest and came naturally - Loneliness.
This is not to say that I felt alone in my struggle to feel, that no one else fought the same inner demon. I'm sure there are many like me...but even if I had met one like me, what good would it be? We'd simply we two beings struggling to feel anything about not feeling anything together. I guess loneliness prevailed simply because I was wanting to be like everyone else I was around. I wanted to be excited and smile and cry - there's something that hasn't happened in a while - and just be all these things. Something is blocking it, right? Well, I found my vice, my little wedge to pry open these walls I've unconsciously built for no reason, it seems.
Music.
Once I slip on the headphones and just shut my eyes and let in the beat of the drums, the tinny twanging of the steel stringed guitar, the soft swelling innocence of the piano, and the underlying support of the bass reverberating through the whole song. Each subtle difference brought out a tiny sliver of emotion that seeped through the infinitesimal breaks in my walls. Music was an infiltrator to my otherwise impervious base of a soul.
The funny thing is, this somehow came as no great shock to me. I felt relief, perhaps, in the knowledge that I was able to feel, that I wasn't some freak who simply mirrored the emotions of others to blend in. I took to listening to music at every available opportunity. Emotion was like a drug coursing through my veins and my soul with tendrils of power formerly unbeknownst to me. It was addictive, and I'd spend hours just laying prone on my floor or bed, my headphones in my ears, blasting different emotions into my mind. Sorrow, anger, peace, joy.... all flowed into a myriad of change, feeding my starved heart with a basis of understanding.
Still a problem remains, though. I can't access these wonderful emotions when I speak to someone in person. When I hear someone say something, I react how logic and observation dictates I should, and then I store the information in my mind for later analysis. More often than not, I'll respond through written or typed messages later on in the day when I've had a chance to process the information, slipping in the appropriate track 5 minutes prior to typing to "feel" my words. If I don't, and I'm pressured into immediate reaction, more often than not it is an immature response, an illogical breach in conduct. Even now, I play music that makes me think, that makes me feel, that makes me try.
I don't feel like an enigma. In fact, I know I'm not. I know I'm just like everyone out there. Something just keeps me from showing it as well. Maybe I'm trying to protect myself? Maybe something happened that made me shut down...maybe that's not a bad thing. I like to think of it as my protection, my own special shield, my invulnerable, impregnable fortress of the soul. I can take any insult, any offense... and not feel a thing. How cool is that?!
This music makes me feel so full of hope, inspired even. Maybe it's the swelling of intensity that rolls down into a calm, almost motherly feel. It makes me feel safe, even if only for the one song. I suppose there's a slight sadness though, in knowing that as soon as I take out the headphones, I'll slip back into my stone shell, become the living statue once again, no heart, only a mind. Still, I don't think there's a safer place for me. Not yet. Not again.
I think I've talked enough for today. The music is almost finished anyway. Till next time, I suppose. Goodbye, beautiful reader. Hello, Breathing Stone.
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