The nostalgia sets in as I attempt to remember a time in my life without music:

My mom claims she played me The Beatles and The Police when I was in the womb in hopes of planting a seed inside my head who's vines would infiltrate my brain, my heart, my soul and then blossom into a devotion to rock and roll

Blackbird and Roxanne replaced Rockabye Baby and Twinkle Twinkle Little Star as lullabies but it was all the same to me as the sweet melodies tricked down my ears and into my soul evoking an untamable passion like spraying lighter fluid on a forest fire 

At one year old I screamed to heavens, "I LOVE ROCK N' ROLL SO PUT ANOTHER DIME IN THE JUKE BOX BABY" like Joan Jett's lyrics could only be understood if they were heard at the loudest possible volumes

Words never were spoken, but danced and leaped out of my mouth as I mimicked the firey tunes of KISS's I Wanna Rock n' Roll all Night like every letter in the song was crafted just for the purpose of me singing it

Music ran through my viens, it empowered the electric pulses in my mind, it gave me purpose just as much as I gave purpose to it 

Singing was never a plan or a demand but instinct 

You did not tell your heart to pump rich and fluid blood through your veins, or your lungs to fill themselves with crisp oxygen and just as naturally to release it, your eyes to blink, your hair to grow, your ears to listen, and for me, my voice to sing 

Creation, I believed, was just as vital as appretiation so immitation for recreation was only fate

Choir taught me do re me and musicals taught me make believe but only did picking up a guitar and putting my fingers on 1, 2, and 3 teach me how to be a musician

Each song was a puzzle: a maleable combination of words and notes stuck together with rhythm and harmony and there was nothing I loved more than the satasfatction of solving them and when monotony poisoned my interest in other people's puzzles, I created my own

Never have I encountered such harmony between body, mind, and soul than when I am composing a song; when I am getting lost in another universe of near rhymes and elegantly coded messages only to be awoken by complete expression, understanding, and callibration of the thoughts in my head 

And when depression sickened my mind and anxiety paralyzed my body, my soul lead me to write music and I have learned it is the only advil for heartache 

Music was the seed planted in my brain by my mother that has grown to cover every inch of my soul and that is why

Music and Breathing are synonymous