Sent: 6/5/2002 2:56 PM
The music from a voice is like a tide to my back just now as I sit on my bed. Warm, it ripples in, gliding over my every. I must say I love listening to singers. It is the one thing that has comforted me in the most amazing ways throughout my life. Every artist I have listened to frequently and consistently has spoken a voice that was also within me sometime during my existence. Listening now, my memory surfs in those single moments in time that are only pulled forth by those chords, those words, that voice. It causes me to recall my life's soundtrack, and I wonder. The stories.
We instinctively want to sing. Born deep within us, whether we can carry a tune or not, our kind sings. For us shy types in today's culture, we are fortunate to find great solace in the ability of singing in our hearts. You see me standing there in the subway car, in my headphones. My face in a grin and lost in another world. Pull back the drape and see inside: My booming soul, mic in hand, singing its heart out!
It's my hope that someday, you'll see me Somewhere else entirely, without headphones. My face in a grin and lost in another world. My booming soul singing its heart out, behind an invisible drape. And, you'll be able to hear it.
Please forgive me if I crack a note here or there. Puberty was rough.
