Music was my refuge; I think music in itself is healing. It’s an explosive expression of humanity. It’s something we are all touched by. No matter what culture we’re from, everyone loves music. After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music. Martin Luther once said, “Beautiful music is the art of the prophets that can calm the agitations of the most magnificent and delightful presents God has given us”, but I don’t believe in prophets and angels bringing this blissful feeling of music to you, all I know is that you don’t look for music, it comes to you. I’ve known times when I use to sit in my room, alone watching the all consuming void, waiting for the moment when I get hit by the ecstasy of music and all I remember is the smile of achievement on my face. I love composing music; it’s like making love to it. Listen and you hear the music, I can hear it everywhere, in the woods, the computer keyboard clicking, in the windows clinking, in the wind, in the air, it’s all around us; all you have to do is open yourself up and I do it for the bliss and then forget it. I don’t make music for eyes. I make music for ears and heart. The best part in composing a song and music is that, it never hurts you when it hits you but a girl’s tight slap or even rejection would kill you bad. Music is the wine that fills the cup of silence. In this world of mistake and misunderstanding, music can say things that people can’t, so when I die I wish to be a song backed by the soul filling rhythm of music, so that people remember things I real mean to express, not somebody perception. People think weed enhances music, but in my opinion it’s the other way round. I sometimes wonder about the crazy equation of it. You move around a certain scale and you still find perfection in it, well one thing is clear it’s not as complicated as relationship. In this world where gay marriage is legal, I suggest better marry the music.
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