I had to wipe the dust off of this one...

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I had to wipe the dust off of this one...

Postby Harbinger » Sun Jun 03, 2007 11:03 am

I recently realized that I had a VERY derelict webjournal from once-apon-a-time when I had the time to write regularly. This was my last entry, felt like sharing it.

"Oh hello dear void that is the internet!!! It has been long since I sat aimlessly on your couch and scribbled my catharsis across your ears with my strange little speeches. Look at that. You probably didn't notice it. Speeches. Why do we spell such a word with a double 'e', then spell Peaches with 'ea'? I'm suddenly fascinated and perplexed by this.

I bought a violin.

Secretly.

I keep it hidden from my roommates. I'm not sure why I do this, but every day when they have left and I am still in the house studying, I pull it out and lose myself to it. I've only been played for such a short time, but I'm already a virtuoso. (sp?) I find it so confusing how I connect so deeply with this 'object'. With every stroke of the bow I seemlessly connect morose chords and notes together in a harmony of emotion seldom felt between even the most intimate of people.

I glide around my apartment, pulling my essense through every string and casting it around the room in a stuppor of meloncholy and passion. I have no idea where these forces come from, but I seem to have this font--or nexus rather of pain, listlessness, and intensity pandemonically swirlled together in a cocophony of madness and derrangment dwelling inside me.

I play for hours on end before passing out in a fit of exhuastion and fatigue with a sense of satisfaction that I have never felt before. It seems no matter how well I live life, or do, see, love, touch, taste, F***, that I'm both insatiable, yet simultaneously have uncanny feelings of deja vu. I am a being born of fury and contradition, and the only thing that seems to bring peace to this is the moaning of my violin.

I put the violin down, and place the bow gently across the neck and sigh a sigh of contentment--then open my eyes and look at my piles of medical books surrounding me and tell myself--Someday....I'll actually go to the store and buy one.....Someday...."
"I am never wrong. I thought I was once, but I was mistaken."
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Postby Maverick » Sun Jun 03, 2007 5:28 pm

Describes very similarly my thoughts on music in general and having the ability to make music....

Nice read..
- Maverick
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