It has always been that way I think. But it has also grown stronger. When dance became my profession I lost the ability to listen to music for fun, for simply listening. I can't hear it with my ears any more.
Music worms it's way inside me, welling from deep deep inside me, coursing through my body, turning me, moving me, touching me, transforming me, evolving me. Creating new meanings inside me.
I also can't cope without it, without movement that explains myself to me. Without the symbiosis of music and feeling inside me. When I cannot move I loose that inside me, that which I have painstakingly formed into the language of my emotion, my logic.
Not being able to speak, to breath, to look inside me, to create new meanings makes me depressed. Empty. Meaningless. Broken. Frozen in time.
Four months is a long time to be frozen in time.
For four days now, I've been breathing again. There is a possibility of hope, of awakening, of a new life in my body, silently vibrating, wordlessly filling my dimensions, blooming in every inch of my skin, heating every infinitesimal point inside me, effortless, unmentionable, alive.
This is my soundtrack.
Zack Hemsey: Changeling
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