When forced to completely submit to the will and whim of someone else, I find I lose myself in a shroud of unknown. I no longer recognize my own feelings, and I am unable to easily
feel. It is an absurd situation. The remedy? Crank up the volume. I must recognize the feeling that I want to express. I must recognize it and then, through listening to the music, channel it. And thus, music becomes a bridge. But it is absurd. To only be able to connect with myself through an amplifier of sound. To become so complex that I can no longer understand myself but for drowning out the complexity in a shriek of anger that is not even my own.
I have become the soundtrack of the talented musicians that I so envy. Yes! Envy! I feel it because the song allows it. It is one feeling of those that are not subject to the merciless destructive interference of my choice poison. But every time it ends, I become someone else once more.
Rewind. Rewind. Rewind again and bask in -- is it anger now? And of course...
"I'm filled with violent woe. I'm filled with complex woe -- still breathing"
