So it begins,
that song comes on.
It's not attached to any one event,
no breakup or loss.
It's just intrinsically sad.
It doesn't way upon the soul,
or displace the mind.
It causes a sadness,
not like a madness or depression.
It's too clean for that.
I'm not implying that they are *****,
or bad.
No, they are just torn and tattered,
much like the old blanket they make you want to bury yourself in,
to hide where daylight will never seep in.
Rather this sadness is crystalline,
a pure movement of emotion.
A product of dark and shimmering beauty,
much akin to tears,
the ones that roll slowly down one's cheek
as the song goes on.
This sound,
this jumbling of frequencies,
an phonemes.
Words that mean so little upon listening,
but so much upon LISTENING,
and melodies played upon a machine.
This song about choices,
about struggling, about strength.
This perfect sound,
this glimmering song,
is life.
I wrote this while listening to the beautifully dark songs of the Swedish post-pop group Twiggy Frostbite, I'd give them a listen if I were you and I had some time to just sit, shut my eyes, and LISTEN.