In what color should I see life? What perfume does it all smell like?
Like a lonely dancer on a black, empty theater I dance, to the sound of a saddened violin, crashing through the emptiness of the night. A scream, a shriek, a cry. An orchestra in front of me, silent and waiting for its cue to start a melody of a dream.
Slowly, the sounds of every note cut through the silence as a celebration of what once was, memories woven into aspirations of the future only to die their sudden death. Like every breath the violin takes after a screaming plethora of notes. Like a frustrated poet, spilling his empty words on torn pieces of wet paper only to find them gone at the very moment they come out of his heart.
How do you say goodbye to a dream? How do you scream your lungs out into this world when you've got no voice to scream. How do you put to rest the ideas of a passionate self? The thoughts that were once able to shake you from your incomplete past, empty present and unknown future?
As the notes move out of the way, as they find their own conclusion, as the rush of an epic surrender to what is takes over, I look at the crowd and I see nothing.
Maybe its just me playing all along, maybe it was just my addiction, my music.