Mouth closed, the body still, head full of other people’s words filling the silence of my conscience with stories and commands. For the longest time, I shut down the music to avoid thought. Realization. Contemplation. There could be no soundtrack to the suspended state of my life and the absence of dreams. You do what you must in order to survive; you get up every morning and keep going, un zombie a la intemperie.
The day arrived when the sound was allowed to come back and replace the stillness with a waterfall. If anything, I learned how it is possible to compartmentalize life and walk conflicting paths at the same time. Fight, yet be soft; smile, yet be broken; long, yet aspire.
Feelings appropriately stored in the back of my soul flourishing again. Showing me that music can return and I can sing again, even – or especially – as I put my armor on to keep fighting.
One thing is for sure: no one will take my music away again.