"Inside these pages you just hold me."
Ed Sheeran
~
My dreams are burning in the sky. A part of me calls them stars, the other, dust. And I don't know whether my soul is made of cosmic dust of a star that died, or of one that is not yet born. And while confusion lays its empty weight upon my numb and wasted mind, I secretly pray for cold rain to protect my dreams from the fire.
My senses fail and I feel no pain. The 'I' I gaze upon inside escapes me and I'm too slow and exhausted to try and catch up with it. My heart keeps failing to materialize. But why?
There must be some explanation for this non-feeling phenomenon. And there must be something more here according to my calculations. Or perhaps I've made some miscalculation. But where?
What is my heart waiting for to show up?
I keep telling myself that I've understood every step in this ancient journey of mine, but have I really? Am I lying to myself like they all do? Aren't we all the same at the end of the day?
Who the hell are you?
Scratch that and rephrase.
What the hell have you become?
[...]
What are words when you no longer know who you are? The symphony that has been playing in my mind all my life is gone. But where to?
The chairs of the artist and the composer have disappeared. Oblivion. There is no proper wording to verbalize the situation. Thoughts fade. That is all. Thoughts fade. And like a dying autumn leaf that bears within its patterns the sleepless marks of every season, I fade too. Even the state of spontaneous expression fails to find the crooked path into my soul. Perhaps, the latter has gone out of its way to find another. Or perhaps, it's busy playing hide and seek with a kindred mate. All I have here is a small number of songs that recurrently shape my lips and state of mind. And since all I had has become a forgotten number of ancient memories, I intend on filling that space with whatever comes next. Whatever comes next I hope I earn it. I hope I deserve it.
Meanwhile, blessed be the noble knights of honor that have reflected light upon my broken road.
And blessed be the brave.
[...]
And they dance to every sound because they know that everything is music.
It's in the slightly audible whistle in the movement of smoke as it parts ways with my breath to seek a more inspiring partner. It's in the sharp knife in bloodied fingers as it slowly moves against the violin in all my flashbacks until all the strings are torn and I fall asleep. It's the same music that made the metro stop and listen to how a little girl and a very old man were exchanging genuine smiles that transcend ethnicity. It's in the way your nose and my heart wrinkle at the sound of your laugh. And it plays in my blood whenever I imagine all the memories we're never gonna make together. In sad and happy moments alike, the music is there. And it's beautiful.
I wish I could describe the dance but I can't.
So what do you feel? Is the music really there or am I imagining things? Don't answer that.
Answer this.
Is there music when you close your eyes?
~
"I just wanted you to know."
My Chemical Romance