Feeling the quick-paced displacement of your heart, as it flutters to the beat of a specific drum, is nothing shy of facing mortality. Music gives you the momentum to strive for inner greatness. Immortals lack creativity, because that one moment that gives life meaning…never comes. It hangs stagnant in the air, being ignored by those that don’t care; however for us mere mortals we thrive off of the thought of death. We design our society around it– For death not only accentuates life…it gives it meaning. Music is an extension of this elongated metaphor. It makes my heart beat rapidly, just as it does when I think of Celeste, or put pen to paper. It is an eternal muse, that I will always try to please, because it has given me so much. Thank you musicians of the world. Thank you.
I do not live my life with many regrets…very few in fact. This is not to say that I have lived life thus far more intelligently than most, rather the opposite. I have made the same mistakes that my parents made, the same that my friends have made or are currently making, and some day my children will live through same trials, tribulations, and heartaches that everyone essentially lives through. I suppose it is apart of the human experience. No matter what station an individual is born into we all make the same basic mistakes and life choices. We all lose a best friend, we all have our heart-broken, and we all say things we wish we had not uttered.
I do have one major regret in my life. One that I lament upon mercilessly, whether my brain urges my heart to or not. It is an error that I do not think I could even go back and change if time travel and God were willing to allow; I honestly believe that it was inevitable, and that no matter what decisions or paths chosen it would always result in the same way.
Today, I decided to clear away some bold boxes of mine from my parent’s basement and in amongst the refuse was a box of my old yearbooks (dating from my elementary school years at Adam’s Elementary all the way to the year I graduated at Cheney High). They were scribbled with notes written in gel pens containing a myriad of jokes, jabs, and heartfelt messages from my friends over the years (none of which I converse with regularly anymore save for two), but the one that still hurts to this day is the loss of my best friend from junior high and high school.
We were close…like brothers. We did everything together; we were inseparable for years. During our senior year we had a falling out, like a lot of friends do in the final days leading up to their graduation ceremonies. Our argument can be best described as trivial now, but at the moment…at the precipice of indecision and trust it seemed so valuable and important. In retrospect it was meaningless; it was not worth our friendship, yet that was the cost. I know he is doing all right (I occasionally check up on him through a friend of a friend), but it will never be the same without him.
He was my closest friend and I can’t help but miss him.
I wish upon the stars for one last breath, one last thought, one last moment with you. I may be gone, but even in the darkness I dream of only one true love and that love is what keeps me in your thoughts. Your blonde locks and blue eyes always leave me wanting more of your gorgeous smile, but today is the today that I have to say goodbye. I don’t want to go, but the Devil has come to collect and I’ve only got a Chevette and red Chucks to carry me away. Remember me, remember me. I’m almost dead, I’m almost gone. Be happy, be strong.