music

i fucking love music. music is one of the best ways to see into someone, there thoughts, emotions, values. everything. i started playing music young. five years old my mother thrusted my sister and i into piano lessons. i continue to take them to this day, nearly a decade later. despite this, you’ll find my musical talent is stunted. i can sing well enough to get by, i once was first clarinet in school band (before i decided to quit because fuck the clarinet), i know scales and chord progressions, the tips of my fingers are hardened by callouses. 

however, when it comes to the music i want to create, the desire to pour everything i feel out, bare myself to the world like the birth of venus…i have nothing. i have nothing to share. i’ve never been in love, my emotions are boring, my blood is red like all the rest and i breathe the same air you do. where is the passion? the desire? the motivation? am i destined for a life of copying? mimicking those i admire? what is it i can share to the world that hasn’t already been shared? 

anyways, guitar is great, ray toro’s sick as fuck, and i am addicted to nicotine and i worry my aging cat is dead beside me. 

(i shook him he’s alive)