Last night while struggling with insomnia these thoughts consumed me. MY MUSIC IS A SMALL APARTMENT My music is a small apartment. The entry door is metal and makes a lot of noise when opening and closing. When I enter, I am consumed by darkness and to reinforce this darkness I have a thin black scarf over my eyes. I have fumbled around this place most of my life and have learned to get around pretty well without sight. To my right there is a desk and office chair. On the desk lies a pen that never runs out of ink and a notebook with endless pages. This is where my thoughts take shape. Beyond the desk metal shelving from floor to ceiling lines the wall with piles of papers scattered indiscriminately on every shelf. These shelves are where my thoughts loiter and dwell. Then a small sterile restroom is tucked away with a shower, toilet and sink. This is where my thoughts freshen up. The wall adjacent to the entry door has more shelves and more papers and next to it is a bed where I can let my thoughts rest. Beyond the bed is a kitchenette so I can feed my thoughts and energize the process. More shelves lead back around to the entry door with ever growing piles of paper. Recently, a small illumination appeared from the restroom like a night light and for the first time I recognized what I had only imagined to be the outline of the tiny place. Then, on another visit another light appeared next to the bed. Even through the thin black scarf covering my eyes I was amazed to finally see the definition of the room I had occupied for so many years. Ironically, at the same time I was being shown the light in my music, outside my small apartment I was also introduced to my own mortality. The meaning of my life is music, literature, philosophy and love. When Im not occupying this space I am an introvert malcontent. I aim to please and breathe acceptance. I am not capable of existing under any type of authoritarian rule nor can I accept demeaning behavior from anyone. When I re-enter this place I lose all sense of any restraints. I have just begun to realize just who I am and what it means to be me. And, for the first time in my life, have decided that I like me and accept my plight and the circumstances of my existence. When I leave my quaint musical dwelling I take comfort in the people I call family and friends who I wrap around me like a big warm blanket. I will love and cherish them always. I always look forward to my next visit to my little music apartment and sometimes hate to leave but I know its the experiences I gather outside its creaky metal door that pay its rent.
Posted on: Wed, 04 Dec 2013 23:11:33 +0000