Musicians heart. [Taken from a Contest Submission for "Musical Minds"]

This was written for a contest about "Whats in the musical head?"



This life bores me. The constant repetition of schedules and routines make
the daily chores of existence weigh heavy on my shoulders.
There is only one thing, has always only been one thing, and will always only be one thing
that interests me, and that one thing is music. I live, thrive, breathe, eat, sleep, shit,
smoke, and piss music. The vibrations of rhythm move through my body like tsunami waves,
hitting the shores of my mind and polluting my brain with the clutter and over-empowering
essence of sound itself. I am music, and music is I.

Through the course of my life I have never had a single moment of silence. The end-less
barrage of war scaled on my brain, BY my brain itself has kept me knee deep in everlasting
echoes of fragmented non-existing compositions, simply screaming to be heard. But they only
scream in my ears.

There is a whole other world inside of me that makes this reality but a shadow; a stain
on the cloth of my perception. The thoughts that I possess have only one purpose. I am
a servant of mankind, a modern day preacher. In a world where religion is losing its
efficacy, there stands only the creators, the imaginative bachelors of lyrics, lines, beats,
passionate moments, and unforgiving emotions forever petrified in a form of wavelengths which
resemble nothing other than my own beating heart.

Society's true politicians and motivational speakers are the artists that bear their very being
to the open-eared world. Lend me your ears, and I will lend you my soul; the motto of every
musician whether they know of it or not.

Do not be decieved. I am not the bright little center of the universe. If you lick me, you
will not find a tootsie roll in my core. Perhaps you might find a hard black toffee, but be
completely assured, you do not want to taste it. Instead, I am the definition of mankind,
the same as everyone, completely and utterly not unique; which makes this all so glorious.

If my pursuit of happiness was a pursuit of dreams, then close my eyes forever I would.
However my pursuit is that of tune, and search for the perfect melody forever I shall.
I don't owe it to the world, I owe it to my self. This strangely perfect booming racket within
my skull simply won't stop untill I let it all out, of that I am sure.

Im pushing so hard, for the silence. For someone who loves sound so much, I crave silence
more than anything. Just a moment of sweet release, to let me remember who I am, who I was
without this tonal insanity. Then happily back to the bronze symbals, the riffs, the licks,
the picks, the goods and the shits, the best and the worst, and everything in between.

I am a musician, and I stand so, fucking proudly.



The new song is what I can do right now without proper equipment. Im sorry.