Music took my life in its hands and shaped it like clay. I was melted butter in a bowl, a ball of silly putty, soft ice cream puddling on the side walk during summer. Music took me by the hair and yanked me to somewhere I’ve never been before. The notes seemed to physically appear before me, forcing their way through my ears and filling up the emptiness in my head. They would bounce around the curved walls, denting my skull into a new form like a smith bangs out a new, metal sword.


I was introduced to different types of music all throughout my life: classic rock, pop, punk, screamo, alternative rock, folk, rap, country and everything in between. In every genre there would be one song that changed everything. There was always something that would change my outlook on life; something that turned up the brightness on the screen. And so when my heart sank lower than my feet, I would reach down into the deep depths of music and pull out something to wrap my chest in, to stop the bleeding.


I’ve listened to everything. From bands you’ve never heard of, to bands you hear too much of. From artists I love to artists you hate. I’ve listened to every song you’ve recommended and even ones where you say, “No! Don’t listen to it! It’s such a bad song!”


Music is something I can physically feel. A good song is a song that touches; but a great song is a song that grabs and holds tight. It’s a song that makes sweet love to you all night. And I don’t want to rush anything, but I think I’d like to marry music one day. Even though it suffers from a multi-personality disorder, it’s the thing that keeps me walking when my feet have fallen off. Without music, life would be black and white. Life would feel like a tongue in the middle of the desert, dry and missing something vital. Music is the glue that holds humans together when there is no humanity.