Lines

lines

I stood on a line. A line of sheet music. And as I climb up to the next line I get higher and higher. And after I rest, I go lower. Until I enter the next bar, and after my one and a half note, I start flying higher again. I can only go so high before, I have to come back down. This is trumpet sheet music after all, and my minstrel isn’t that talented. So I spend my time climbing and falling. When I’m falling, I’m thinking of when I’ll get high again. And when I’m high, I’m wandering how long I can hold it before I have to slide back into reality. Reality is where I have to live. Between the lines of the treble clef.

I can make myself go higher, but I always fall. No matter how good people think I am, I will always fall back between the lines. That’s my home. I don’t ask anything of you.  Just watch me and listen. Try to harmonize. Good luck. This is a complicated melody. And it’s not all together pleasing to the ear. But that’s probably because you don’t understand the themes and motifs. Everyone always forgets the motifs. Don’t make that mistake. Don’t tell me you don’t understand. Tell the truth. Which is that you just haven’t been paying attention for long enough. If you want to comprehend something then you have to give it time and continued concentration. Obsess. You can understand anything if you use your mind. Don’t let your mind use you.  That’s how people go insane. Of course, everyone is insane. But if you’re in control of your insanity, then you’re ok.

You don’t have to live as an accepted member of society to be happy. Society is complicated. I prefer miniature societies when possible, and even then I usually end up destroying them. So I make a new one. I usually have 4 or 5 going at a time. Each with different rules and characters. It’s the only way to live. Life has too many options to choose only one to stick with for your lifetime. Now that would truly be insanity.

To clear things up, the definition of insanity is not to do the same thing over and over, expecting different results. That has never been the definition. That’s more of an example of hope. Or of most of our lives. Our sad, monotonous life. Where we do the same things as our parents, and pray our kids do better than we did, all the while teaching them to do the exact same. That’s not insane, it’s just living between the lines of the treble clef. Insanity is being mad, and we all know what that looks like. It’s about time we saw a little of that in the mirror.

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