I am flawed,
I have failed, and I will fail again.
I am flawed in major ways and minor ways and yet the music is as persistently beautiful as the mountains in my dreams and the song can never fail.
Because my failures are mine, they are unique and they are new. My failures are condemned to never have a chance as repetitive falling climbers on those peaks for they will never take the same route twice.
I am free, my failures are free. hence the music is free. The music is pure, the music is blissfully unaware that it's growing beauty is rooted in the ashes of these failures.
And somewhere between the first failure and the last note I fell in love with it all.
Freedom, the beautiful music of mountaintop flowers, planted in the failed attempts of rock climbers ashes.
Freedom, such a beautiful failure.