"well wake, baby, wake.
but leave that blanket around you,
there's nowhere else safe.
i'm leaving this place,
but there's nothing i'm planning to take;
just you, just you, just you, just you..."
i've said for a long time that music is my oxygen, my sanity, the way i focus and often exist. lately i have noticed that it is my muse, though i'm sure i always knew this, never writing a word in a notebook, composition book, blank blog space, or even the backside of a postcard without a song playing in the background.
so now, as i push myself through to finish a story that keeps building, determined to not be the girl who never finishes anything anymore, i find myself with my ears open, taking in every turn of a lyric, and progression of sound. i've found myself pulling over to the side of the road, tears streaming down my face, as i see something so vivid in my mind.
characters seem to take over, nudge at me, tug at me until i stop and look, or listen - this is the path, over here, and don't forget...
i always heard writers talk about that at some point the story takes over. that you become, as the writer, a conduit - or perhaps it is just that you become so entrenched with the characters that you become pieces of them. as if you are playing a role on a stage, layering traits over your own, and mixing them until they are one.
all i know for sure is that i am carrying them around with me - everywhere - and they seem to have song preferences. by the end of this story i think i my end up with a soundtrack that is volumes long. time life will have to come around and make an informercial for it, or something.
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