That’s it. That’s what I must do to write. Extend my arms forward and start finger tapping the words in my head to the device that records my thoughts. Why are you recording my thoughts oh device of mine? What is it you think I must give? I am not talking about the computer itself but instead the incessant mental noise of writing encouragement. I want an expert to show me everything. It hurts to write. My arms hang from my lumbar spine and there is great stress on those muscles. I lean my elbows into the table and small abrasions begin to irritate. Somewhere along the lines I have been convinced that complaining is the best form of finding attention. Although it is not always successful.
Most humans crave attention because it makes them feel important. I crave attention because I am important. Maybe the same is true with you. Right now, I am adding more words to this page for the second day in a row. I am sorry if the topics are juxtaposed. I am making writing a habit. The only way I can do that is by sitting down and writing about it. So, I expect this first little bit to be like this. You don’t though, I suspect, so apologies credited.
Today I lose my train of thought often. Undoubtedly because of marijuana consumption. Smoking marijuana has become a habit. More on that later. When it comes to writing I tend to ask myself, “What is the purpose?”. This question is difficult to answer, and it often causes writing to cease or not start at all. Come to think of it is the same, about, with music. I always ask myself, “why toil so hard for so little in music? It is worthless, it does nothing, what is the point of it? Why not be committed to something more beneficial.”. I often reason with myself that my contribution is not valuable because it is not tangible. Abstract thinking and annoying patterns can not help anyone. Or so I thought.
These days I seem to be formulating reasons and beliefs to why I am important and why music is important. It is important that I think music is important. In fact, everything I do is extremely valuable. I came to this conclusion partly by listening to the Funkadelics. For decades I have come back to the hits and wonders and awe of this band because of their undeniable groove. I knew there had to be something deeper to it. There is to me in the music of Parliament Funkadelic something uniquely alive. Something that calls to all of us, with a message, a message of healing. “Groove can not only move it can remove.”. For me its Parliament, for some its bible hymns, for others, its emo, punk, oldies, memorable songs, gospel, soul, blues, rap, reggae, rude rock, alt, new wav? Nu wave? IS this new wave?
I heard a musician, whose name slips me, a classic writer, a poet of the nineteenth century, reminiscing on stories of crash of the thirties. The rock bottom days. The days with no food and no heat, despair and all that. He said it wasn’t the churches or the priests that did any healing any good. It was the musicians on the street corners. The saxophones and drums, that kept the people going on.
I think music is the most important thing there is. I believe that because I believe all matter of the universe is vibrating to a frequency. I think music soothes us so well because it communicates with the natural harmonies of our bodies. Albeit, much of these “good sounding” frequencies have been learned as a culture over time. That is for when we get into Hz and tuning instruments to a standard pitch. Our brains have natural processors to receive these signals and I do not think anything else communicates more with our raw physical nature than sound does.
Sound is not excluded to anyone. Sound is a vibration and can be felt through touch. In any case, that is my point about sounding being important. Which leads to my justification that it isn’t a waste of time to make noise for “no reason”.