Have to Write...

Some people have to speak, some people have to take a drive...I have to write. If I'm frustrated or need to sort things out, I need to run. If I have that itch where I'm feeling emotional, or I'm on the cusp of something, or that I just feel completely moved (an indescribable feeling, really), then I HAVE to write. Have to, like I won't be able to do anything else UNTIL I've written. That time is now.

It almost always happens when I've listened to the perfect song for the moment where I literally cannot move forward unless I've listened to the song over and over again, and over, over, over.... I'm sure my neighbors hate it, but this isn't about them. It's about me, a keyboard, and this blog. Or under other circumstances...me, a pen, and a notebook. Music brings it all together for me. The feeling is rarely there without it.

This song, this feeling...the feeling of having to write. THIS is where my life is. The most connected to myself I feel is when I'm doing just this. It's sad really that it doesn't happen more often, but the times when I've completely gotten into my head and there is no distraction...this is the core of life. It's the emotion of the chords, that feeling of the vibrations from the music on my chest, that moment when the music is transmitted into my body and literally flows through it. The spirit of the music floats through and runs through my veins more when I'm listening to it, or when I'm producing it. (The later happens on such a rare occasion, it's barely worth mentioning.)

It isn't merely the melody that's in the background either. It's that transcendent moment when the spoken/sung lyric word and the melodic performed chords/notes breed together to form that piece of music. That moment is the one that brings me to tears. It overcomes me with such a strong force, that once it begins, there is no stopping it from happening. I'm stuck in a moment where there is nothing else. It is timeless. It's the love of my life, the everything that makes that moment move on to the next, the thread that holds it all together.

Beyond that moment, when the music takes over, there is the coming down from that high moment when it all fits together, into something that is no longer about me in an empty space with the music, but about the everyday hours of life. Now everything moves forward and farther away from that moment where everything was together, everything had meaning, everything was...well, whole. It's lost and I'm swimming in the middle of the ocean looking for the shore. It's a dream that you wake up from, but so badly want to lucid dream back into existence. I'm running towards that transcendent moment-hoping, praying-that it will come back to me. It's so sporadic that I can only wish that the notes will guide me yet again.