Hours
without Music: 48
Two days ago, my MP3 player
disappeared. What’s that you say? How does something just
disappear? Excellent question there, Reader. Here’s how my cousin
explained it to me.
“The house took it.”
Wait. What are you talking about?
“The house…takes things.”
Yup, there you have it. The house took
my MP3 player. Wanna know the fucked up thing? I believe her. You
see, this house is not natural.
I’ve experienced shit within these
walls which left them stained with some very nasty memories. You
might not know this, but houses can talk.
So, anyway, back to the case of the
missing MP3 player. Let’s play devil’s advocate and say the
house did take my music from me. Why would it do this you ask?
Well…I’ve almost finished my book. Something is going to happen
once it’s complete and I believe there are forces at play which are
hell bent on it staying unfinished.
For you see, music is my therapy. It
lets me fight off the voices which are not my own and convert the
pain into something meaningful. Without it, I can’t focus and the
progress has grinded to a screeching halt. I reject sleep. Whenever
I close my eyes I’m shown horrible images, leaving me constantly
exhausted.
It was in this frame of mind I drove to
my old job in order to have lunch with an old co-worker. I met him
outside and saw some people I hadn’t seen in almost a year.
Finally, Charles came down and I made him give me a hug. He’s like
a father to me and I missed him dearly. He listened as I talked, but
was never afraid to call me out on my bullshit and tell me things I
didn’t want to hear.
Then I showed him the book and he was
entranced. He kept going on and on and perusing the first two pages.
I think this is the caliber he’s been wanting to see and it’s a
good feeling. On the way back to the office, he tells me this.
“You’re only on act two, Mr.
Benjamin.” You’ve almost won your fight with the darkness, but
this is where it gets tough. The closer you get to defeating your
enemy, the nastier it gets. So, you can expect the worst to be
coming soon.
And it’s about to. Today I drove
around for hours on some soul crushing errands. The trip was spent
listening to the radio and wanting to only hear songs from my MP3
player. But I can’t and people don’t seem to get what a big deal
this is to me. I can’t quiet my mind, so I can’t sleep, which
mean it’s impossible to actually process anything. Your nerves
then become frayed and your emotions are in a constant state of
crisis. Music helps me soothe the beast and inspires me to make
beauty from darkness. I can’t write without it, is what I’m
saying. Also, I haven’t been able to finish the book.
So that’s why, I think the house
stole my MP3 player.
