It’s crazy how music becomes universal when it’s done right. Political or personal. Loving or feeding the urge to strangle that one person you can’t stand, knowing you’d love to work out and get your legs strong enough to kick them into a brick wall. I’m sitting here blasting Black Republicans and just the instrumental alone makes me want to sit on a rooftop with a cigarette in my mouth, just for the fuck of it. No jumping, no dramatic “end my life” shit. Just… sit.
Think a little bit. Is this what it’s all about? Life via music. Linkin Park plays with my emotions like they know me. Fuck yeah, I love them. Can’t relate to rap, even though I do sag my jeans. I can’t wear my jeans without sagging just a bit. It’s become a matter of comfort, but I just like a little breathing room. I’m not showing off the ass of my boxers.
Death metal fueled me enough to punch a hole through 2 walls and my bedroom door. Emo crap fed my mishandling of my emotions. I still struggle with that, unfortunately. Silence of poetry, that gave me the power to take my punches to paper and blogs. The absence of music even gets me.
What can touch me when I’m feeling like I do now? No emotion. Nothing at all. No love, no hate, no remorse, no jealousy, no fear. Life escapes, and I become nothing more than a spot on a grid. No locations, just the lines, the rules that we’re supposed to follow. Like now, what the hell am I talking about? I know it well, to you it’s nonsense. Maybe one day you’ll get me. Until then, it’s just me and the only thing that brings me back to life. Punk rock for now. The music.
I can’t keep running away.