There is music

At any given point there is music in my head. Like right now I'm on the edge of glory cause it's been a really really messed up week. Which makes no sense but there it is.

The music in my head isn't always the best, Gaga and Hot Chelle Rae are entertaining but hardly art, but it does help me think. Mostly. There are times when letting the bodies hit the floor is surprisingly helpful. Statistics? Sole reason I did so well is electronica, house/techno, and Powerman 5000. They kept me following the patterns and from thinking too hard about it all. Writing, though, I need it quiet. Or as quiet as possible. Rain is good for that. Falling rain.

Also it keeps me sane. Kinda? I mean, nine times out of ten I'm really not as angry or sad as I might look. I'm actually quite peaceful;  my mind's just wandering and listening to the sound. That brief look of momentary panic when you ask me what's wrong or what I'm thinking? (did you even notice it?) That's me trying to find something, anything, to say so that I don't start humming Rimsky-Korsakov or singing at you. In Japanese. I have a huge crush on Asagi from D and his voice, oh his voice is to die for!

Music, sweet music. It's exhausting sometimes, though. I've had the same song running on repeat through my head all this time. Bleh. But it's better than the alternative.

I've had the rare moment when it all goes absolutely quiet. I don't like it.There's a difference between quiet and a complete and total absence of, well, everything. Anything. Nothing. It's just a void but one that's beyond black.

So I make my own music. Small and white, clean and bright. A song to fill the space and places I have forgotten.

I just wish I could remember it.