It's going to be a long post

She's in a state of transition.

Shes unable to pick between what she knows best and what she ought to do for survival. She's betraying a part of herself. Everything around her is screaming, warning her not to let it all go.

When she walks down the street, the trees whisper amongst themselves, they send leaves spinning at her. "Each hit for every second she's throwing it all away". Passer-bys brush past her, she catches their disapproving looks, their smug faces "ha, we got another one!". The little boy on his red shining biycle stops to pity her "What would mummy say?".

The truth is. Ever since she was really young, she has taken with anything that was fragile and beautiful. And for her, the first thing she fell in love with was music. She displayed the most enthusiasm in music class during kindergarden. She would come home, full to the brim with happiness, dump her bag on the floor before prancing around the room singing about blackbird being baked in pies. Sounds made her whole.

Her mother could see very early on, that she would be musicial, or creative or artsy, or all three. Music was her lifeline. She hated getting sore throats, because that meant she could not sing. The first time she had my flute serviced, she was upset and irritated all week. Shr couldn't handle being deprived of the ability to make music. It made her sane.

When she turned 13, she went through the usual teenage phrase of doubt and insecurity. That year was documented quite accurately in a notebook she kept which was littered with amateurish poetry. Later on, she started putting her poems to music. She wrote her first song at 14. It wasn't profound or anything. Just some little ditty about being disappointed with life and the cruelties it brings.

The senior years of highschool saw her work broaden from songs about "finding herself" to songs about actual events. She remembered comforting a classmate one day who, hithero she had not been able to acquaint herself with as fully as she would have liked. But she viewed her friend as someone with a lovely heart and nice disposition. She tried to cheer her friend up by saying what a lovely person she is. She would never forget the anger on her companion's face when she shook her head and muttered "I'm not a good person, you don't know the things I have done". She went home that afternoon, disturbed by her friend's words but still upholding the belief that good can be found in everyone. Almost instantly a song came out. She realised that composing from experiences, writing and examing feelings and the human condition seemed the best way to song write.

During her parents' divorce where she could have very easily succumbed to self-destruction. She turned to music. She spent every chance she had in the practice music rooms, playing to her heart's content. With every note she hit, she forced out every ounce of pain, confusion, fear and doubt inside of her. When life was chaotic, when she felt out of control, when she felt life was testing her, music guided her through all the obstacles, through every barrier and every challenge.

When she plays music, she feels complete and this surge of energy feels the air, like electricity.

Everything disappears. The faces of her audience dissolve into darkness. She becomes the anti-thesis of gravity. The music fills every part of her body, like honey. It
runs parallel with the blood in her veins, it overtakes every logical inkling in her mind, untill everything she feels, everything she breathes, everything she sees, is music.

Just her and music.

So raw and pure. It was easy to express her emotions this way. There was no need of words or talking or bitching, it felt so easy, so uncomplicated, she wondered why not everyone in the world communicated this way. It felt almost natural. That this was the way to do things.

She thought initially, she would only experience this with music but last year when started dancing, she felt the same serene feeling, of floating on air. Her body moved easily to music, she immediately felt at home. This was territory that she's been in before.

The thought of dedicating her whole life to music has been through her mind so many times, she can hardly count. The desire to have people listen to her music, to appreciate the whole creative process, of producing melodies and lyrics, was beyond her wildest dreams.

In the past few years, she's drawn out elaborate plans of how she would conquer the world with her music, but most, of them would be left unfinished and untouched, laid
to rest in the crevices of her mind.

She wished she was braver, that she would be more determined to do something that she felt like she was destined to do.

But what's destiny anyway? Is it really in the stars? Is someone holding a book of her life, safe inside their personal library, somewhere far away? Has everything been pre-planned and thought out?

Even if the answers to these questions are "yes", she would never know.

This is why she'll have to make do herself.

But even if she doesn't do anything fancy with her music in the future. One thing is for sure.

Music will always stay with her. Because she knows, that silenced, will be the death of her.