This is an essay I wrote at a totally inproper time in school today, about my brain and about music.
The Symphony Imperfect
My life is made of faintly twisted facts. My hair is not blonde, but brown; not curly but bushy. My eyes are not green or blue, but mixed with brown and gold. I'm not perfect. I am formed from imperfection. Crooked thumbs and fingers. No features that can, in any sense, be called 'beautiful'. And something so off, so destroyed, in my mind. It lets me understand the the selfs behind the emotions, and hinders my reasoning and ability to describe them. It has released a wild stream of colour and light and sound, and it has blocked off something else. I don't know what it is, yet. Whatever it my be, it scares me. My mind in vunerable and shadowed. The harshness of this new music overwhelms me. My Chemical Romance exposses the dark in life. Reliant K is strangly lacking in happy themes. Hawk Nelson, for its glory, has a horribly acurate view of the world. Three Days Grace and Green Day are just utter panic. Blindness. Really, they frighten me. So incredible that a tune can change every feeling a person posseses. I havve learned that almost every song wants you to be a little bit in chaos. A bit lost. A bit needy. So, you listen. And you listen because only sounds and songs can fill this need. It's a trap. and you fall deliciously into it. Because you love it.
lucyblue22