Something that is not intangible, yet is.

Something that is heard and seen through everything else.

It gets me through the rough times, and the smooth ones –

when something tragic, or delightful happens, it is always waiting for me. 

I use it as my escape from the real world,

and let it carry me from my chair, into a peaceful state of mind.

 

It is something I need, something I crave.

 

It is music. 

 

Individual notes – A, B, C, D –

That turn into intervals – seconds, thirds, perfect fourths and fifths –

That become chords – major, minor, augmented and diminished – 

That progress into phrases – fast or slow, happy or sad –

That make up masterpieces for the ears.

This is what keeps me alive

For I did not truly live in my first six years, 

I rather frolicked about on pure consciousness. 

 

To be stuck on a deserted island is to be away from the things that matter most, 

being apart from the music I enjoy.

To go without is like a bear being deprived of its fresh honey,

or a pirate traveling without his potent rum.

Being withdrawn from recognizable melodies leads to uncontrollable insanity, 

until the distance disappears. 

 

A life with no music would cause me to lose all sense of purpose, 

even more so than simply a life on a deserted island.