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Maybe I'm Daft, Well...


This is more of a craft and solid as a sturdy raft although ONE person sounds a bit understaffed. I want this "music" essay to be like the real thing. Innovative, creative. Musical. I am musical, too, and that's why I knew this was the one to choose as the topic for you to get the best view of candid, right-handed me.  

Music is mine. She's harsh or super fine, unreal, imaginative, extremely humongous. Like a fungus—always growing—growing, flowing, showing. A blue, blue, Blue Monday can be fixed—so to say. With a song by New Order, nothing is gray. Beethoven or Green Day—nothing's the same—nothing about her is lame. She's all different, persistent, new—from David Bowie's "Fame" to  Frank Sinatra's "Fly Me to the Moon". She is appreciation and creation. 

 

Music is like BUZZZAPP!! Like a healthy slap on the face to snap you out of that phase of distasteful disgrace. She's a cure—Just Like Heaven. She can lure and allure. Make you feel secure, unsure, miniature, grandeur— 

 

And I say to you: Do not fear! She knows no summer flings. She's here to stay—will never go away. Oh, the combinations of words(!) and endless, endless songbirds. She is always everywhere. The hum of your fridge—water splashing on a ridge...that's her! That's her soft harmonious voices paired with her loud blaring brass. She is countless quotations. Innumerable tribulations. A myriad of composition, repetition. Without her is like malnutrition. Starvation and deprivation. The world needs her. I NEED HER.  

 

Music is love. True love—if I know it. Without her is withdrawal for she is my drug. 

 

To make music? That's a quest. A pilgrimage and God puts you to the test because the ring of her strings can bring tears (and that's true power—stronger than the rest).  

 

...that’s what I have. The never-ending desire hardwired in my membrane. It's insane the multitude of refrains I contain in my brain. No, not plain. Bubbly and pure like a glass of champagne. 

 

(now we whisper): and that's me. MY thing. that's what I do. "Oh, her? She's the music, man."

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