My Mozart,
this moment is so terribly wrong
there is no sound
there is nothing
nothing. Except her.
I wish to hear the sound envelope me, to stumble at first as I learn what a great master composed in his sleep. This is suffocating. So Suffocating.
I feel old, ancient almost, a relic, this has no sense - no, none at all.
There is another, fussing about names, the pronunciation of names.
(It is pronounced 'Bahkh' not 'Bach'. 'Shoh-pan', not 'Chop-in')
But today, it is not of names. Of course, it is polite, respectful, to pronounce them correctly, but really, today is not of names.
There is something so powerful, so vividly alive that awakens me and sedates me all at once. I am alive and dead;part of something beyond, sometimes I believe, beyond living itself.
In this moment, perhaps like too many moments before this, I do not wish to live.
There is a beauty in death that I long for. A calm quiet.
There are things which must be done, modulation, key change. Those things. (This has been a ritornello).
But when they were done, they will signify the prelude to the means by which shall be met by an end.
1 comment:
Marilyn Manson said in a recent interview when talking about a suicidal period in his life last year, that there is a difference between wanting to die and not wanting to live. I think there's a truth in that. I think death is different to that emptiness of simply being alive when you don't want to be. But I hardly want to draw great attention to this point...it was just a passing thought I had while reading the latter part of your blog.
Choh-pan. Bah-ch. I wonder how they said their own names...
<3Helena
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