Music
Photo: 100 years ago. What was your messenger name? Did you have one? lol Mine was Corny and then my DJ friend added to that Ling-Ling. So it became Corny Ling-Ling 🙂
The way I perceive music is probably not normal, I kind of have known that, but the other day my friend asked me do you know how music sounds when you’re stoned?
I said how would I, I never tried anything, and then he described it, and I said that’s exactly how I perceive music.
I never tried any drugs, it wasn’t something on my list, and my Swedish cousin died to overdose, so the warning was there. I didn’t need more evidence. Also, at 21 I got to Silva Method class where I perceived amazing things; that became my escape scheme. The strongest I have been on apart from alcohol were the weakest antidepressants when I was 26, 27.
Starting to write it down today I realised I was a child at the time of The Singing Revolution. Our country and 2 others were holding hands across the borders (Hundreds of km/miles of people standing side by side), sang themselves free from Russia. ‘… It was the weapon of choice when Estonians sought to free themselves from 5 decades of Soviet occupation.’
My birth nation has had a big song festival since 1869 (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Estonian_Song_Festival), and that was the way to free their spirits from the repression, because prisoners can very well be free in spirit no matter the circumstance. There were hidden messages written into the songs, etc.
I am not a fan of history of any kind as I see a lot of pain there (although still interested in some), or anything old dragged along to this reality. I have always loved looking forward, and different that already has been.
However, that kind of explains my sense of freedom that I feel when music is around -inspiration, and enthusiasm and creativity. Everything in me can go ….?! The sensitivity could’ve turned into something useful in this reality probably.
As a teenager we had an alternative music night (it’s not called alternative these days, it’s quite pop now:)) where we danced from 11pm to 9am in the morning. My toe nails had cracked horizontally without me noticing. I haven’t got a chance to dance that much after that, as just there hasn’t been such music or circumstances. I have dreams related to that; could that kind of joy reappear or something better?
I tried to put words to something that’s kind of not possible as it is with the most delicious things in life.
What is your weirdness that you’re hiding?
Oh, I googled the origin of the word: Weird derives from the Old English noun wyrd, essentially meaning “fate.” By the 8th century, the plural wyrde had begun to appear in texts as a gloss for Parcae, the Latin name for the Fates—three goddesses who spun, measured, and cut the thread of life.
What if that’s your strongness?
Use it while you’re here! Be brave bring it into this world! ✨✨✨🌎✨✨✨