I had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion.

i know this: i feel music. it's very rare that i find other people that i can talk to about what i feel when a chord catches you off guard, or how deeply a chorus goes through my soul. i found out that i wasn't alone when i read jack kerouac for the first time. since then, i don't know if i've ever really discussed it with anyone. i've written many papers in english class about that deep down shaking jumping that is so thick in the air when instruments are being played close by, or when a room full of people are crying in a theater. at funerals and weddings. when the people singing along drown out the music. but i've tried a few times to talk to people who have seen the same things as me, and it leaves me a little bit lonely. and i like to think that those closest to me can feel the beat but more often than not, i find myself standing [or as the case may be, dancing] alone. why is there not more life being lived? everyday mundane tasks aren't to be washed over, they in and of themselves contain everything! walt whitman, song of myself, on the road. late summer nights, crying over a song or a heartache. laying in someone's arms knowing something youve never known before. smiling on the sreet without realizing it. i want you to feel this with me. i want to give you love, love.

maybe i'm overly emotional.
maybe i've been in the house for too long.
maybe it's affection speaking.

but i love, love. and i don't want to lose that to anything.