This I Believe

Josué - Dallas, Texas
Entered on October 15, 2007
Age Group: Under 18
Themes: creativity

I believe in music. I believe in its ability to capture the very essence of the human soul and make it readily available for all who wish, to revel in its presence.

As a young elementary school boy, I would often find myself aloof and separated from the others. I was, what you could call, a loner. Not that I never socialized, just very seldom, as such, during these vital years where social standards and habits are often formed, my social constructs matured differently.

As I grew and the tribulations of any young adult came upon me, I was unable to confide in another. Having never kept a friend for more than a year and a half, I wasn’t even sure that I could even do so. Just the thought of it frightened me. I could not turn to my family to ease the burdens (now seemingly trivial, as most burdens seem once taken care of). Due to the age difference of my siblings, and lack of communication with them, I felt somewhat silly in attempting to reach out to them. In regard to my parents however, all that I would have gotten in response was some religious mumbo jumbo which I found did not console me in the least. In truth, their devoutness to Christianity convinced me of my sure entrance to the fiery pits of Lucifer.

Whom did I turn to relate and disclose my deepest, darkest secrets? What did I turn to is a better question. I turned, inevitably, to music. Its’ reaches spanned no known limit and it was incapable of judgment. Music would never leave me, and always sympathize with every possible emotion I could have. It could flip as smoothly as a light switch. I loved it. I loved how it felt as if I wasn’t alone. I wasn’t the only one anymore. Every beat, rap, riff, or even scream, was golden. “Golden, Johnny Boy.”

It was able to gracefully express, what I couldn’t even vulgarly. Every verse was soaked in raw emotion. It helped me through many things, such first love, first heartbreak, first death in the family, etc…

Of course, no amount of music, no matter how graceful, harsh or melodious, is a substitute for human contact. Music simply acted as a metaphorical midnight moonlight to serve its purpose until sunrise came around. I no longer rely on music to cope. Still, as that may be, I still consider it a friend, the close friend I never had growing up.