Suffocating Puff of Smoke

Nothing warms my heart more than shuffling though my massive music playlist. Which is a good thing, since it's become a necessity as of late. When I listen to music I love made by people I respect, I really feel like I'm learning something, like I'm picking up little things that can improve my own music. Or maybe it's a lazy excuse so I don't actually have to work to improve. I dunno.

You know what I can't understand, if He's asked such a horrible thing of me-to write this maddening song- and He even has the time to send one of His lackeys to annoy me, why wouldn't He just come here and appear to me Himself? What, is He just too darn busy to show up? I thought of another reason today: maybe He just doesn't see me as a threat. Not like you other bloggers who are out doing stuff and whatnot. Maybe He thinks if He just leaves me here long enough, I'll just do what He wants.

Whatever.

Call me stupid, but as long as I have my music, I feel like I can do anything. As long as I don't actually have to do anything. I'm silly like that. Either way, I like not not think of such thing whenever I can.

And so finally, I leave you with this, a beautifully dynamic song that I've just fallen in love with. It feels like something that belongs to another, more interesting world. Good 'ol Treow, in my eyes, you can do no wrong.

There it is again

The choking feeling of not being good enough. What did I do this time?

It's warmed up quite a bit today, which is good because I hate snow. I went to the park to go for a walk earlier today. The snow is like a blanket the muffles sound and makes everything so much quieter. I guess I don't hate it that much. As I walked, I could see the imprints where children had been sledding sometime before and I sort of regretted not bringing a sled myself. I'm still a child at heart I guess.

She was there. The idiot with the idiotic mask. Seriously, is it supposed to be scary? Because it's not. There she stood without a coat and up to her calves in soaking wet snow, not really seeming to care at all. As always, she was fixated on me. She spoke to me again. It wasn' a threat or a message of any importance. Just insults. Words that shouldn't have cut as deeply as they did, especially coming from someone like her.

"Worthless."

I kept walking, never taking my eyes off the shoveled sidewalk.

"Talentless."

My fingers were turning red in the cold. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my gloves.

"Useless garbage."

I slipped the purple gloves onto my hands.

"Can't you hear them laughing at you?"

And then she was gone.

Something about her voice is familiar. Maybe I've met her before. Maybe I'd recognize her without the stupid mask? There's something about her presence too. It brings up feeling of inexplicable rage. Who is she? Why does she think she has the right to just stand around a taunt me? I hate her. I fucking HATE that little no-good fucking bitch.

See what I mean? Her petty name calling just should not piss me off as much as it does. What a way to spend Valentines day.

I feel sick. Very very sick.

(Song) aRtIFICIaL SAnCtuAry

"I just wanted to make something that sounded calm and peaceful and at least somewhat happy. This song was inspired by the idea of a sacred forest shrine, a permanent safe place where the sun filters through the leaves and the sound of wind chimes travel on the warm breeze. See? Happy thoughts. It works wonders.

Like "Resolve", this song was created to give a small amount of comfort to those who find themselves tangled in this horrible mess. Even if that comfort is only artificial. "

Nothing else to report.

MP3: http://www.sendspace.com/file/rao6lt

Inspiration

I have a snow day today so I think this would be a great opportunity to try and write another song. Despite the below-freezing temperature, the sun is out and I'm in quite the good mood today. I'll go about this in the most careful way I can. I'll pay attention to every single note played, whatever it takes to ensure that the inspiration is coming from me and only me. And just to be safe, I'll make sure it's a happy song. Because we can all use a happy song once and awhile.

If all goes well, I'll have it posted later tonight.

...

First of all, I'd like to apologize for my last post. I hate more than anything else in the world to force my problems onto other people and the last thing I ever want to do is to come across as angsty. I've read through all your comments again and just want to thank you all for trying to be supportive, even if I didn't quite see it that way at first. I'll take this quick opportunity to address some of those comments. Yes, sometimes bouts of depression are normal for me, although my current situation really isn't helping that any. And no, it's not just artist's block that's the problem.

Recently I've been plagued by voices. Vague, incomprehensible mutterings that are slowly but surely turning my life into a living hell. As most of these things do, it started off small, as an almost unnoticeable noise in the corner of my mind. Like a dog scratching on a door to be let in. I tried to ignore it. What could it possibly be other than my highly overactive imagination? It only escalated from there. Inhuman and impossible to understand words (I hesitate to even call them "words") continually intrude in my thoughts. Trying to tell me something but I just can't understand. Well...it's difficult to explain, but the more I ignore it, the more I know what it's trying to say. Or rather, what He really wants from me.

And yet...it's still so hard to put into words. It's so annoying I feel like I want to rip my hair out just to make it stop. He seems to want a song from me. Why He would every want a song from someone untrained and untalented like me is just beyond my comprehension. But the idea of taking the wordless spoken tune running though my head and putting it to music...is the most terrifying thought I can possibly imagine. I don't know why, I don't know the reason for it, I don't feel like I know anything anymore. But I know that if that were to happen, it would cause unspeakable suffering. To me? To others? I don't know. Maybe everyone. Maybe no one. Maybe just me.

So now you see why I've been avoiding that silly little keyboard. I've often felt as I worked that something was guiding my fingers along the keys. After I finish and I listen to my work, I often wonder how I was able to make such a good song and if I could ever do it again. That song He wants...He's tried to make it before clearly. But He missed one very important detail: a tune composed by human hands is worthless unless the person's heart is in it. Unfortunately, as stated before, I have no interest in writing a melody that causes pain. And I have a feeling that "no" is not an appropriate responce.

I've been able to get some measure of peace by listening to- what else- music. Not mine, but my 200 or so song playlist on my iPod. It's nothing but a temporary fix though. After all, I can't carry my iPod around with me everywhere. Still, it's a tiny sanctuary for my troubled mind. It's funny, but I always thought that if I ever got to the point of hearing voices I would snap a lot faster than this. It's become shockingly normal now, even though it's only been a few weeks. Everything's harder when you're depressed though. As if my impending madness wasn't enough, I have collage and scholarships and essays to worry about. Sometimes I just don't feel like I'm not strong enough to handle it all.

In other upsetting news, I have had a few more run-ins with Henohonomoheji-mask girl (needs a catchier name I know). Still stared at me with her odd face. She never has a lot to say. But when she does speak, it's never anything nice. I'd rather not talk about it. Let's just say she's being less than encouraging. I don't know what I'll do if she becomes more outwardly threatening.

 My parents, bless their hearts, are trying so much to help me. They encourage me every opportunity they can and I'm so grateful for that. It's just...sometimes nothing anyone says can help. Sometimes the problem is just me. Actually, I think the problem's just me a lot of the time.

So that's what I've been doing this past month. I honestly don't know I will (or should) continue writing music. I'm certainly going to have to try, or that twenty grand my parents are paying to get me into collage for music will be pretty useless. Thanks again for all your kind comments. And before you say it, yes, I'll be careful.

"This is really amazing! Great work. I teared up near the end."
"This is so pretty...it's simple and completely chill (at least by my standards)."
"Beautiful song.. Great work in composing it, Hosozukuri."
"I think your songs are beautiful and inspiring - I hope everyone gains strength when listening to them."
"This song is incredible! I love you revealed the sinister alterior motives for Slenderman's friendliness and did so in such a subtle way. It's so dark and masterfully done. I love it. Thank you for making this."


Please be honest.

What exactly do you see in my "work"?
What makes it worth listening to?
Why are you following this useless blog?
Why are you even reading this now?
Why do you have any reason to care for some talentless worthless stranger?
Don't you have anything better to do?

I can't do anything anymore. Everything sounds wrong to me. My keyboard is gathering dust in the corner of my room. I don't even want to look at it anymore. I am a fraud and a liar. Please stop listening to my stupid excuses for music. It's not even that good anyway.

Don't mind me

What is he really?

An alien? A time-traveler? An ascended meme? The boogieman?

What does He want?

Just to hunt down every kid with a video camera or a blogger account?

I don’t think that’s the truth. This is something I’ve pondered almost constantly. So what do I think? What do I have to say on the matter? I’ll put it simply.

He is madness incarnate.

“Any of a group of psychiatric disorders characterized by withdrawal from reality, illogical patterns of thinking, delusions, hallucinations, and psychotic behavior.” -Definition of psychosis

“…The strangest of these characters are those who espouse Blue And Orange Morality. These characters have a moral framework that is so utterly alien and foreign to human experience that we can't peg them as good or evil. They aren't a Chaotic Neutral Unfettered, though they may seem to act terrifyingly randomly; nor are they necessarily a Fettered Lawful Neutral, because our and their understanding of 'law' as a concept may not even be equivalent. There might be a logic behind their actions, it's just that they operate with entirely different sets of values and premises with which to draw their conclusions.” –TV tropes

Let’s start with what we know. He’s supposedly made from the thoughts and belief of the people who know about Him. He’s a being that shouldn’t exist, and yet, He does. How? Why? Perhaps He’s always been there, watching, waiting, lurking in the darkest corners of the human mind. What would you say to someone who told you that they were being followed by a tall faceless man? You’d say that they’re crazy. Something like that couldn’t possibly exist and in a way, you’d be correct.

What does it take to make something from make-believe to reality? Certainly a “crazy” person would know. Some one who sees and hears things that aren’t there. But are they really? In their minds, the voices they hear are real. That’s their reality. He exists similarly. He’s a distortion in reality, given power from belief and constantly trying to draw others into the delusion He created.

This also explains why he behavior and methods vary from person to person. Maybe it's a case of "what you see is what you expect to see" or somehow He's able to know just what to do to frighten an individual the most.

That being said, it’s almost impossible to say for sure whether He is good or evil.  Yes, he has done terrible things and shattered countless lives, but it’s impossible to know if He did those things with evil intentions. The way He operates is on a completely different level, a completely different though process. To understand the way of thinking is to lose one’s grip on reality as it is currently defined to the individual. For this reason, I believe it is impossible to understand him.

But we all try, don’t we?

As I type it’s becoming horribly apparent how difficult it is to explain all of this. I read through it again and it all looks like the same things that have been brought up over and over. Oh well. At least I tried, right?  

Oh, and I haven't gone crazy yet. I've just had this idea for awhile and thought it couldn't hurt to share it. I promise that when I finally lose it, I'll be sure to let you all know.

New song(s) coming soon. My head hurts too much now.