These are my heart songs
They never feel wrong
And when I wake for goodness sake
These are the songs I keep singing
My strongest emotions are tied to music. Those whom I call friends already know this. Those that actually read this wandering, less than idealistic record of uninspired thoughts, may have also stumbled upon this truth.
Some say music can heal broken hearts, but it does not. Music can offer solace and be a much needed companion during the times that exist in between our moments of bliss. Music can also be our dance partner on the stage of euphoria.
The time line of my life is divided not by career, nor love interest (or subsequent heartache) but instead by pitch and key. Every day presses a different note, and strums a new chord. The beats vary, and rhythm ebbs and flows. The end of my existence will result in a symphony so very beautiful, flawed, pure and terrifying.
I hope to share my heart’s composition before it’s conclusion. I even pray that someone finds it worthy of adding their harmony to my melody.
Tell her what was wrong
I sometimes think to much
But say nothing at all
Sometimes it is not easy to say what needs to be said. Most of the time if the words are hard to find, it is probably for the best. This prevents me from needing to remove my foot from my mouth as frequently as I already do.
What about the times, however, when I need to express a sentiment, or a feeling to someone, and I just cannot gather the strength of will to do so? Maybe this too, is also for the best. Many have said, including myself, “What is the worst that could happen?” Well, in the predicament I am in, there is a plethora of that which could go wrong.
Tell her something in my mind
Freezes up from time to time
Vows are spoken to be broken.
Feelings are intense. Words are trivial.
Pleasures remain. So does the pain.
The move to the new house is near completion. Most of my life’s belongings are unpacked and placed at their arbitrarily decided new location, where they will remain until I decide to move again and pack them away for an indefinite amount of time. I am really comfortable in my new room. It feels like home to me, more so than I have felt since I moved away from Rialto 7 years ago.
The one thing that disturbs me most about my new residence is the fact that it is so quiet. In the apartment I recently abandoned, I had neighbors above me whose favorite hobby was to keep my roommates and myself as awake and annoyed as possible. They honed this skill to perfection. The neighbors across from us had a cockatiel that would chirp incessantly. I was definitely looking forward to moving and enjoying a new found silence.
Silence can sometimes be intensely emotional and turbulent. In a conversation between two people, a lot can be said by saying nothing at all. This kind of silence I can enjoy. The look in someones eyes, or the body language of an individual speaks louder than any word in any language. Words are akin to the slight of hand and misdirection a magician uses to distract you from reality. Words are meaningless and forgettable. What would we say if we could only speak truths about how we really feel?
In our busy, everyday activities we become so used to the background noise of life. We tune most of it out. We hardly pay attention to it. But we need it. When left with only inner dialogue I am frightened by the realities of my life. Words are seductively deceptive; thought is abstract, honest and scary. It wasn’t always this way for me. I used to be extremely satisfied while trapped in my own head, alone. Something changed, and I need to figure out what.