Thursday, June 30, 2005

Stolen Music

One day he offered to crystallize his love disguised as pain onto a flat disc. With such timid eyes and anime smile he spoke of the mountains and valleys, and streams and rivers, and cascades and lakes, jolted alive by the beats of his viscera -- rhythmic, pulsating, modulated vocal stresses that named the emotions gone unspoken. He gave it to me. I held it for a few moments, contemplating all that this flat, round piece of plastic contained. I was distantly shocked at the brutality of such a manifestation: of seeing all that is so pure, and so benevolent, and so profound, being bound and burned on this disc. Nonetheless, the moment I pressed a little button, it all gushed out with the force of a storm and assuredly subsumed my being. I sat looking at nothing, but looking still, staring... like as if I saw those mountains and those valleys and those streams and those rivers, and those cascades and those lakes... I saw them all before me. And he stood above them all, like the glory of a messianic second-coming, he stood -- his hair still a moppy mess, his anime smile and timid eyes. I wondered, is this possible? I know its not a dream because I'm not asleep! I know its not real because I'm here in my home. But what is this state of membraneous time warp I find myself happily trapped in? The vision lasted for as long as I could hear the sound of his love. What does love sound like? Like this, I thought: Like the sound of his heartbeat in your ear even when he's not around. Like the whisper of his breath that you can hear even in the midst of a storm. That is what love sounds like. Soon, the vision was blurred until it fully disappeared and I was transported back to my drab living room couch. I turned to see who was sitting next to me, and I saw a different person. He sat perplexed and enraptured, like as if he had witnessed the exact same things I did -- or did he just see them reflected in my eyes? In any case, he must have felt some enchantment from that experience within himself, for he slyly paced around contemplating what his next move should be. He waited stealthily and patiently in the glare of bright daylight, for he knew he shouldn't be so obvious of his intentions by lurking in the dark shadows. And when the time seemed right to him, he grabbed the rivers of melody with his bare hands, shrouded the radiance of its tormented love, and left without a word; Stolen forever... mountains and all.

4 Comments:

Blogger Semperviva said...

i like this idea...alOt...

7/06/2005 10:25:00 AM  
Blogger Ergo Sum said...

what idea?

7/06/2005 06:01:00 PM  
Blogger innommable said...

You changed it into a poem... I like it a lot this way!

7/07/2005 07:48:00 PM  
Blogger Semperviva said...

..the embodiement of music? perhaps...

7/09/2005 10:28:00 PM  

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