Are words enough, i mean really are they enough? To make sense of the formlessness and yet heavy weight of emotion. i don’t know, but i keep trying to find reason behind the repeated carnage in the centre of my chest. Heartache is a myth because it is full bodied and travels around your cells until they are all filled to the brim with the code to what breaks you. I’m not sure sometimes how to shape words to describe this mess and that’s where music comes in and it offers me up to be buried and reborn once more. Music, it has saved my life more than once and at times is the only thing that can turn my annihilation into something elegant and meaningful.
Did you know that I studied Opera Singing for several years and sang before i could talk, it was my number one passion. Then that year happened, the year that broke me taking everything including my sound with it and it’s never come back. I fell silent. Since then, on the other side of the wreckage of that time, I have trie to sing again, but I end up crying instead. I’m worried what i might sing if i keep going. So I write and keep drawing, things I’ve always done, things that are safe and I make no sound.