The Boney King of Nowhere

Imagine one of your favourite musicians. Imagine one of your favourite songs. Remember the emotion you were given from it when you discovered it the first time. It was an instant connection, a mood, and soundscape, a memory. It’s strange to think, but the artist that made the song never got to experience the same connection the same way that you did. The part of the song that made you tear up instantly, the part made you stop and stare straight ahead and let you mind release, the part that threw you into a dancing fit, the part that made the hair on your neck stand up and sent a chill down your spine, or made you melt into your chair. The creator never got to experience that first-time “wow” moment. In fact, they experienced something quite different. They had been feeling that same emotion that you received for quite some time, it wasn’t an instant discovery. They watched it grow. They saw it come and go. They spent sleepless nights, either in fear, in anticipation, feeling jealousy, confusion, comfort, love, hatred. The song was a culmination of these emotions and ideas. It took them and packaged them into a series of modulated and synchronized sound waves. This neat little package, when played back by the listener, can instantly bring on the rush of meaningful emotions that were so painstakingly prepared by the artist. Because of this I believe that music is one of the greatest and most underrated superpowers that humans possess. The ability to transmit a lifetime of emotions instantly from one being to another using only sound. This is also why I have such a desire to create music. I want to know that I gave someone a chill, that I put someone to sleep, that I helped someone cope, that I helped someone remember, or helped someone forget. Music is the greatest gift I have ever received, and I need to give back whatever I can. 

Spent about three hours after work today bumming around wilkes-barre. Felt good to have no destination again. I feel tingly.