The Rainbow Fizz

He does not frequent indie gigs in his neighborhood, but he does so every once in a while. Partly because he was in the scene for a while. Partly because there are very good music going on there that the mainstream cannot fathom. 

He agrees that sometimes he cannot digest the material that gets played. The lack of control and filter and moderation leads to the showcase of music so eclectic and eccentric it often baffles his senses. 

But he went ahead this time. To support a friend and to support his band. He also likes their music. He also agrees that the utmost support should be given to a community such as this, because mainstream ears will not ever. And also because the gig was located very near his prior arrangement venue. 

He went without much expectation other than to unwind and relax. He went also in anticipation of his favorite band's upcoming album, to get a preview of what may go into the CD. 

Before the event started his friend pulled him into the changing room for a chance at some smokes. There was already a circle of, possibly musicians gearing to play their set soon, handing some produce around while sampling it. He got hold of it. Take only two drags, His friend says. No more. 

So he took two drags, but they were deep ones. He caught a glimpse of a guy chuckling while looking at him. Having done that he returned the produce, thanked them and left. 

That night was the first night he experienced music like he never did in his entire life. The hall was pitch black save a projector showing random clips in all desaturated glory. For the first time he did not hear guitars and drums and bass. For the first time he heard the sunrise. The waves crashing against rocks. He heard the footsteps of dancers. He saw a man running through the fields of gold grass. 

The darkness of a dead forest. No leaves on the trees. Mud for ground. Thunder crashing beyond the foggy horizon. The uncertainty, the heart beating fast. 

The music went on as his emotion surged along. His eyes running all around so quickly, absorbing everything around him. But he would as soon forget the last thing he sees as his eyes pick up a new object. His thoughts wander in and out of the hall, in and out of the music. He thought of many things. Things he forgot he thought about just minutes ago. Or was it hours?

He lost track of time. He didn't know if he'd been sitting there for hours, or was it just a couple of minutes. He didn't know if it was a new song playing, or still the same one. He didn't know if he'd asked this question before. People walk pass. He didn't know he gave way to them until he saw them squeezing through the crowd in front. 

He didn't know if anyone talked to him. And if he talked to anyone, he didn't remember what he said. Everything was a blur. But everything inside him was sharp as hell. He felt like falling, only to realize he was standing still and steady. Whenever he turned his head, he felt his inner head lagging behind his real one. 

When he talked to people he would try to act normal. He would smile for a brief moment to show responsiveness in the conversation. Then he would suddenly realize the conversation long over, but the smile still plastered across his face. He would suddenly remember himself over reacting to a statement, but not remember if he actually reacted or that it was just his thought. 

There was ambient music playing. Probably the most boring set he has ever heard. But indie musicians support each other even if they don't appreciate the music. So he stayed and tried to absorb it in. He closed his eyes as it began. It took him away. Swept him off his feet. Carried him to the skies and into a completely different world. He felt immediately the emotions laid upon the piano keys as they were struck. One by one. It felt like the despair of a crying titan. Slow. Almost silent. Solitary. 

He drifted in and out of reality for the longest time. He didn't know for how long, but it didn't matter. He was probably standing as still as a log in the hall, not moving a single hair to the flow of the music playing in front. But inside he was more connected than anyone else in the hall. He felt every heart beat, every tear and every joy in every single chord. 

This was probably the first time he'd ever felt a connection this deep to the music he was listening to. He finally understood the stories that were told behind banging heads, strings and pedals, synthesizers and drums. This was the first time he saw rains drops come out of keys. It was the most amazing and also the most terrifying night of his life. The latter true because of the former. 

Eloquent Chords

It's better to feel pain than nothing at all.

Pain represents the lowest chord of expression, but to feel nothing at all is to not even have a single chord struck in the rift of life. It's existence allows one to appreciate the opposite. It clears the head, it encourages proper conduct. It heals and it matures. Pain is the teacher one never live without, have full gratitude for, but would hope not to ever see again in the future. To feel nothing is to not have felt anything before. So if one were to choose between feeling pain or nothing at all, always opt for the former. Stay stubborn. Stay optimistic. Realism is for the weak and unworthy. Fall. Fall again. And again. Pain strengthens. Strength is the fuel to move on. To avoid pain is to avoid love and the opposite of love is indifference. 

- Stubborn Love, The Lumineers

Stuck in her daydream.

Reality is an opinion. Some lucky ones, by streak of karma of their past life, were able to easily cruise pass this. Everyone wants to be good at something, to excel, to be loved, to love, to belong. Some find it being awake and being amongst ones they love. Some prefer the couple grams take them into a reality where nobody cares, nobody judges, nobody looks twice and frowns. The reality where objects don't matter, the reality where money and status mean nothing. She struggles to stay in her daydream. She works hard to afford the traveling expenses, the bubbling spoons, the heated pipes, the syringes, the cements. She wants to remain there forever, and not return to the world of judgement and frowns and money and status and material ownership. She wants to fly away like an angel. Lungs burnt. Mouth taste the sour puke she don't remember expelling. She finally flies away, like an angel, covered in white on the grey cobblestones just inches away from the sidewalk. 

- The A Team, Ed Sheeran

I would wrap you in my thin white arms, sit and watch the stars glide

Hold on to it, your friend, your brother, your sister, your lover. It will love you back, it will feed you. It will remove your requirement for food and shelter and clothing and protection. It will remove your need for achievements and social acceptance. It will give you peace. It will fulfill you. Wrap it tight, do not let it go. It will not keep you happy and content and un-needing forever. When the cold and wet and dirt and hunger and thirst returns, use it. Line it up in thin white lines. Take it all in and feel blessed again. Remove all needs for as long as you have this friend brother sister lover you need nothing else. You will not feel the hunger not the thirst not the stench. Not the cold. Not the wet. The dark grey and black will return to glittering colors, they melt and hover and swirl. Wrap your thin arms around it and do not let it go. Lie on the grass. Watch the stars glide across the colorful sky. Absorb the beauty of the world. But hold it tight. 

- Otis Redding, Everclear

You're hiding out so painfully.

Skeletons. Shadows. Ghosts. They chase after you. They catch up, take you over and they show you just how ugly you are. A closet full of them. You keep them locked away and hope that they never come out. You put on a mask and pretend nothing is going on. Yet quietly they creep out of the steel barricades and they hover in darkness, waiting to lunge at you when you fall weak. That perfect timing to strike. Then your consciousness is taken from you, control revoked. All you can do is stand by and observe as shadows and ghosts wreck havoc with your body, and leave you to tend to their mess. You fear the future as much as you hate your past. It is not your fault these ghosts and skeletons follow you, but there is no one you can blame either. Until you learn to control and accept these ghosts and skeletons, you will always be hiding out painfully and watching the world turn without you. 

- No Envy No Fear, Joshua Radin

Equal partition abolishes emulation.

Fight for equal rights. The rights to own, to obtain, to be seen, to be heard, to be cared for. Fight for equal wealth. Remove the chains, allow complete mobility. But equality is by no means complete and unconditional. Equal partition of wealth abolishes emulation. It abolishes labor. It abolishes competition. It creates entitlement. It creates inequality. So fight. But do not fight ignorantly for unestablished equality. Do not fight for undefined wealth distribution. But fight for equal opportunity, the opportunity at labor creation and competition. Fight for equal mobility without shackles and segregation and color partition. 

- Les Miserables

Heal the scars from off my back, I don't need them anymore

Pain will eventually dissipate. It will scatter and it will turn into dead scars. Scars are superficial. They do not harm. They do not cause pain. But they do remind you of your survival, your hardship, your courage. They remind you of how much you have grown. How you managed to come to terms with the ghosts and skeletons, the past that for so long have only been able to haunt you. How you have accepted who and what you are, and know that it is not so bad after all. So peel off your scars. Remove them from your back and throw them away. You don't need them anymore. Nobody else would need to see how much you have grown either, for this battle waged within yourself is only for your own reminiscence. 

- Welcome Home, Radical Face