Once upon a time...

What happens when you can't keep track of a real diary.

Sunday, June 11, 2006

Music has always been my key

At vaious points in my life there have been 'dead spots' in my emotional response. Inevitably, I find some song, or some artist that finds the crack in the crust, begins to work it open again. Like a child digging at an ant hill with a stick, working it farther and farther open, opening me back up.

Picking at the scab. That familiar, exquisite pain - tastes like sour apples.

There I am, playing the same song, ... even the samemusical phrase over and over. obsessively trying to figure out - what is this? what is this... feeling? I... don't know.

It hurts. I think. I'm not sure. I'm just glad to *feel* again. It means I am real. I am really here. I haven't just evaporated under the heat of my own convitions and decisions. Somehwere, there is a hurt. Find my regrets, my pains, my sins. bring them up from the depths, open that hole a little wider - see what is there - you matter, you are.

For god's sake stop being so damned logical and distant.