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~ Rain-Reminded ~ 6/30/07 12:59pm ~ |
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When I came upstairs to my room to write, the softest song was playing on the stereo, and the deepest thunder rolled outside through my window. It was one of those magic moments that you swear never happens in real life, and the words just started pouring through my fingertips like liquid silver.
It’s dark outside, but it feels perfect. The cool rainy air is floating through the window over my hands as they tap the keys of my laptop, and with the music, I’m lost in the spell of my words.
Yes, my words.
They’re special to me.
The written word is another tier of language that I understand and appreciate above everything else. So, yes; these are my words.
They are as magic to me as a painter’s brush and paints are, and an athlete’s ball and field, and a mother’s laughing child, and a musician’s humming strings. And sometimes, when I get caught up in reality, it’s the hardest thing in the world to remember that I write because I love it.
I have ink in my veins, as surely as I have dreams in my head. And there is a grander dream I have, of spinning worlds from nothing but those dreams I have and the craft I love.
Even if this magic seems like a small thing to me later, I know right now that it keeps me alive. I don’t know how it does, but I don’t need to. I just know that there is something about my words that connect me to life, in every sense.
I can’t ever forget that, so long as I can hold a pen or type on these keys.
~
The rain sounds loud now, but not too loud; like applause from the invisible hands of ghosts. They can hear the music too, and I can imagine them dancing as they clap. There are thousands of them, as foggy-clear as wax paper and as cheerful as the living when full of booze. They are celebrating the click of my fingers on the computer keys. They are celebrating the newest tendril on my life’s climbing vine; because it means that a life is glowing with purpose. And I can feel it, in the rhythm of their thousands of dancing feet, tapping as raindrops on the roof outside my window, and swirling in to drift across my hands as a cool mist as I work under the spell of my words.
Just now as the music twists a string of nostalgic notes, did you see their smiling faces? Did you feel the mist, or smell the fresh rain?
If you did, that means the spell of the words has touched you, and you have visited my world, if only for a moment. Put on a sweet song that makes you dream, and read this again. Can you see the magic that I see in the spell of my words?
Can you see it all clearly: the dancing, smiling ghosts, and the applause of the rain... The cool misty air coming through the window, and the sound of the tapping keys beneath the music...
Can you see the stranger glancing up from the blue glow of the computer screen, as the tapping stops? If you can see the smile she flashes to the rain outside her window, then it’s me. It means you have seen me in one of the happiest moments I can have. It means you’re in my world, where I learn to work the most real magic there is.
It means my dream is coming true bit by bit.
[–Gackto’s Kimi no Tame ni Dekiru Koto (acoustic)]
 Mitsukeru Furidomu · Mon Jul 30, 2007 @ 07:27pm · 0 Comments |
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