Master

Mine is a silent obsession. It doesn’t consume, doesn’t demand and I do not fear it. It does not take over my life’s decisions. But then it does. In subtle ways, when I do not expect it.

I have, over the years, heard many songs, instrumental music. I have figured certain things out and these findings have been quite consistent.
-- The sound of piano can evoke a feeling of romance or put me to sleep
-- The sound of drums never found a place in my heart. No emotions - of anger, sadness, excitement
-- The flute, I always associate with superficiality, snobbery and detachment.
-- Saxaphone, with a jazz twist, a complete picture to jive with. Happiness.

As always, not adhering to the inverted pyramid style of writing that is drilled into all journalists, I have kept the best for the last.

-- The strings of a guitar.

Today, I learned that the sound of a guitar can make me an infidel. Or, let me put it in other words, I heard a certain sound from a guitar, which is exactly how I would describe infidelity. I believe (at least for now) the emotions you pass through being infidel is the height of emotions (before and after the act. I wouldn’t consider acts as thoughts come into play and then decisions. Whole new post!!!)

I love the sound of the guitar. I have tried mastering it. I use the word master because I never managed to do that. The obsession doesn’t dictate people to help me out. It sticks and seduces and it is everything that I want.