Music and Silence

Silence is golden, a man once said.

Personally, there is an intensity to the silence of life that overwhelms me.  It is usually the case when I cannot purge someone from my memories.  When I only deepen the burden of emptiness when I remind myself of such a person.  When I become urgently desperate to hastily fill in the void that has been left behind.  When the emptiness proves overwhelming and numbs the sensation of my dreams, a realm I used to escape to in order to find solace and peace.  The silence consumes me when I walk away with less than what I walked in with. 

It's in these moments of deafening silence that make it harder for me to continue.  With tireless thoughts of what once was, what is, and what will never be, the warmth of the past is replaced with the cold present of what has become.  Circumstance then becomes a trial.  When it hurts to be alone in the silence of what is.  When the words that break the silence only speak of what can never be.

This is when music helps a lost soul.  When the very essence of self has been battered by self-destructive judgments and been silenced by the loss of hope.  When the lonely nights of too much silence invites thoughts of consuming darkness.  It is in moments like these, when the barren land of human growth seems dry, that music replenishes purpose back into the acrid roots of conviction. 

I truly believe that I would not be alive today it were not for music.