Sometime Around Midnight

I understand music again. For the longest time, the only way I could express the way I felt was to listen and have someone else say it for me.
Then came a time when I put words in my own mouth- too bad they were the wrong ones. Living in that period of time was kind of like being in this constant brainwashed state in which you lie to yourself thinking it's genuine, but in retrospect, you were dead wrong and in such an obvious way.

When I lied and told myself that everything I had in front of me was all I would ever need, and therefore the most I should ever want or ask for, music stopped making sense. The flow, the words, the balance between poetry and harmony that once could've been held at my own fingertips became white noise-- someone talking at me. I thought I had discovered everything life had to offer, and no longer needed to ache for answers, learn lessons, sympathize with other for their loses while I had no empathy for what I had let escape me...

It's funny what happens when your world crashes down, landing sharply and loudly on everything but your head: things start to make sense again. In this juxtaposed, paradoxical sort of way, it takes a lot of uncertainty to make you confident that you are in control of your life. The thing is, you find that once you fall apart and shatter, those scattered pieces of your life fit more closely together than when they were cemented solid in one sentimental, nostalgic delusion of luck, happiness, whatever...

I don't know what made me understand words, and long for them, again...I assume it has to do with my pieces finally falling into alignment. But, all of a sudden I can relate--not even relate--more like I just know. Those words fit. They feel right.

Do you ever understand something so comprehensively, on a practically instinctual level, that your head spins in a rush of almost orgasmic excitement?
There's one song that I've heard at least a hundred times, and enjoyed, but never "got." All of a sudden, I heard the words and I felt as though I had been there before. The realization that I understood the pain, the confusion, the ambivalence of the words made my chest tighten, my heart race, and my mind swell. It's like these words helped me find a piece of myself that has been long missing, but so crucial to my existence.

Again, I feel like me. I feel everything. My own words are free in the palm of my hand, not locked under someone else's guarded tongue.

I'm finally free to live and love for no one but me.