music.
music is just another one of those silly little things.
a silly little thing that makes everything a little bit easier
a silly little thing that make the world a little bit simpler
a silly little thing that keeps you from drowning in your own existence
as the dusk kills the day.
music is just a silly little thing
that makes everything so much more
well
more.
it’s hard not to sigh in relief of myself as the applause slowly dies down
the rhythmic popping of dusty vinyl quietly gives birth to mahler symphony no. 5
proud trumpets dancing with timid clarinets
ornery cymbals brawling with apathetic euphoniums
myriad strings brashly trying to outdo one another
bass and snare stoically humming sweet nothings to no one in particular
cacophonous harmonies of major 7ths flirting with diminished 4ths
the breathy staccatos of movement no. 1 “trauermarsch”
a fluid, moving contradiction
beauty calling itself a funeral procession
as it tautologically proves
the world might not be such a bad place after all.
movement no. 2 gleefully taunts the ignorant american in me
“stürmisch bewegt, mit größter sehemenz” which means
(at least according to the irrefutable wikipedia)
“moving stormily, with the greatest vehemence”
and goddamn, does it ever.
before i even realize it
movement no. 3 bursts into existence
“scherzo” my god
i don’t even know up from down anymore
trombones smash into the world
woodwinds segue into brass like playing a game of bloody knuckles with cement
there is a sudden raw guffaw of hypnotic trills and canon
it is melting into
something something something
bloody french
fancy jargon is no longer a priority
struggling for breath
scrambling for the words
that could never do it justice.
tick tock tick tock.
where did the last ten minutes go?
my body begs for respite
please, Mahler, please
give me a breather you savage bastard
“crescendo. stringendo. accellerando.”
are the only mercies i receive in reply
and then it begins
oh my god
does it fucking begin.
movement no. 4 “adagietto”
in german, “sehr langsam”
an imperative statement, “always slowly”
ha. ha.
as if anyone could make it through this fucking thing
without dying horribly
without loving shamefully
without existing terribly
without being murdered by bits of rapture and fleeting emotions
without being having your sanity consumed by counterpoint and cadence
i no longer care that she forgot about a promise made by two stupid teenagers
i no longer care that i have far too much debts owed to nameless strangers
i no longer care about bridges burnt with regret, back where the water used to be
I don’t know how i ever forgot,
Mahler you beautiful bastard of a cold dead corpse,
how you make me feel so goddamn alive.
movement no. 5 enters
subtle arpeggios remind me of simpler days
warm doting mothers and cereal soggy with milk
i can never think straight after no. 4
at last, no. 5 “rondo (final)”
Mahler you wonderful fucker
once again you’ve turned me into a quivering wreck of a human being
i wonder why hubris tastes like the ass swig of an old whiskey bottle
i wonder why words only come when everyone else has left
a tired giggling of flutes faintly echoes somewhere
a lonely french horn’s F# fades into the silence of a softer world
a tinge of longing for something you’ve convinced yourself was nothing
it’s funny how those always hurt oh so well.
maybe icarus wasn’t such a sad story after all
just a power outage in the sky
it’s better than complaining to god on hospital floors
angrily coveting the beautiful things we forgot we already are
at least the wax melted
before any of his dreams did.