Restless

Silence.

Depression.

Sunlight.

It is easily the greatest time for me in the small hours of the morning. I'm not sure if it is insomnia or creative fever that keeps me up late, but I have always found solace in the absolute silence of the hours I should be asleep. My life radiates with Music, Rhythm, Verse, Chorus. Noise even. Lots of Noise. Lots of distraction from the deep recesses of Who I Am and Where I Belong. I don't like to think about those things. I'd much rather sing a song or distract myself from the gnawing feeling of Worthlessness and Insignificance. It is in these silent times that alone I open up my inside caverns to peek into their dark chambers. By torchlight I spelunk through my past; those painful memories I wish to have forgotten, those wounds that should be forgiven. Those things that eat you alive inside, scratching at their restrictive cages that you have locked away hoping that they will die and be lost to eternity. And yet they never rot.

I think that people are happy, truly happy, sometimes. Some days everything just beats with that Groove and Rhythm that resonate within you, and it is GOOD. Goodness that makes you Laugh, Dance, Sing, Burst forth with energy and enthusiasm, smiles that infect like a virus, and a world that spins on sunshine and lollipops. Some days are rainclouds and lightning bolts. Deep, introspective days; days where you peel the happy face scratch-n-sniff stickers off your bullet holes and reluctantly peer inside to see what damage has been done to you by so called friends or others. Is it frightening to see inside to what a dark, angry, dangerous, or selfish person you are? Or is the truly frightening fact that the same hands are capable of murder and giving life? Same mouth capable of destroying spirit or praise? It is painful to realize that life isn't all sunshine and cookies, however I wish it where.

Is it irony that the best music comes from the greatest pain? That the Artist life must be filled with absolute torture of pain and agony? Or greatest Joy? Perhaps these sorts of people have a greater range of emotions than the throng of humanity. And what is the preoccupation of most of the songs written:

Love.

I wish to not write about Love, for Love is the subject of a billion writings, all of which are much better than whatever I'd write about. Music has touched on Finding Love, Yearning for Love, Losing Love, Hating Love, Forgetting Love, and everything in between. Why is Love so important? What inside of us Screams that Love be our Defining Purpose? I'm not sure, but its much easier being the guy with the questions than the guy with the answers. I'll admit that I don't understand Love in the least bit. I've read tons of books on it, heard experts from all kinds of fields talk about it, and its just as confusing as theoretical physics to me. Is it Love that defines us? Does it answer the questions of Who Am I and Where I Belong? Does it make us Feel Good, and that makes it right? Maybe some of us don't want to open up those bullet holes and see what wounds we are numbing by finding or patching them up with this "Love". I know I've been guilty sometimes.

I think I've come to a point in my life where I Don't Care who Loves me, at least in a way that it defines my existence. I think that I've become comfortable with Who I Am. Alone, at least, I can be honest with myself. I'm not sure if the world wants to see. Maybe its pride, maybe its fear, that keeps us from opening those caverns to the Sunlight and letting Happiness in. I would prefer my insides by full of Cookies and Fun. Maybe then I would write a bunch of happy children's songs and play at Disneyland. Maybe that's what Joy is all about.

Here's to Hope.

Live, Love, Verse.

J. Beatnik