Music: A Way Of Life

I'll write a confession of what happened. I started to listen to music to take my mind off of the bad experiences
that I would have. I didn't want these experiences to happen of course, but they did. I felt so alone in the world.
And then when society would cast it's back on me, I felt like I was dying.

The song "Smashed into Pieces" was my anthem around the time. Smashed Into Pieces it seemed, had suffered a similar fate.
It was, and still is a sad song. Don't get me wrong, I am not insecure. I am totally confident about my ability
to use music as a mean to express myself. The music I listen to however, merely aids the emotional connection.
Music has always done this. I am nearing the end of my teen years. I live with my parents, and will soon be forced
to move out. There will be nowhere I could call home. I barely recognize myself from just two or three years ago.

I can't believe I thought that materialistic objects would make me happy. That this prescribed route was going to
make me stop wondering, and actually live my life. Instead of watching it.

The solace of music then seems in retrospect, like an obvious thing to do. But as luck would have it, I finally
found something that I was truly a natural at. Expressing myself. You see, I have a lot of pain. Of course, everyone
has pain. And I am no different. But what I find myself trying to do with music is to just ignore everything that
I have ever learned or experienced. Just blissfully forget about school, parents, counselors, and the things that make
up the world around me. It is during these times that I am in a different reality. The sense of emotion that I receive
from a simple tune, could keep me going for days. When I listen, I feel momentarily intoxicated. An orgasmic sense of
something recognised, and understood. A reflection of myself.

So from someone with no background whatsoever. I find myself with the perfect medium to express myself with: Music