Padded Room

No see, just do, behind the glass,

Dance monkey dance

No hear,  ears ring, cant touch a thing

Just sing monkey sing

Ive felt this feeling before; like my hands are tied behind my back in a straight jacket as I bounce off the walls of the padded room. They watch me behind the glass and talk about me in experiments. They can hear me you know! They can hear me! But they don’t listen. How did I get here? I’m sure I came in here willingly.  Why wont they listen? They could just press that little button and talk to me. I’m not crazy you know! I swear! I know what I’m saying, I’m not crazy…

Does that sound crazy??

I remember why I came in here; to get the sounds out of my head – too many, make me cant sit still, scratching down raw thoughts at random moments on bits of paper, else they jumble and deepen my torment – got to get them out. I cant listen to them all at the same time, so I’ve got to get them out, make sense of them. These are my thoughts. Its my experiment, but they have all the buttons in front of them. I must trust them to capture everything. They kinda get it,  but the padded room becomes worse than my mind. Its the complete opposite. I cant hear in here I have to get out – I think I’m about to have some full on panic attack or something (they’ll call it a ‘Diva moment’) – Banging on the glass!! I read lips but hear nothing, I cant hear anything!!

Somebody touch a button!

A high pitched, lightning bolt of sound stabs into my right ear and drives through my entire body exiting my heel into the ground. Like watching flying shell casing and shotgun recoil, my body jerks violently in one direction and headphones fly in the other. Ok!… OK!… Now I really cant hear in here. I have to get out…

Oh wait this locks on the inside.

I think some dues aren’t dues to be paid. you’re just hazed until you can take no more – Ok we respect you now – Call it a learning experience in the lack of business of music. I’ve had many, not even anything like this. I just think of them now. I reminisce failed efforts to assert myself beyond my plainest speaking words. This always bewilders me, results never vary if I don’t get what I want. Ultimately I am the vessel for my creative process. I accept that challenge, and only work with others that do also… Respect.


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