(no subject)
Some days you sit at the piano, and the notes pour out of you before you can even begin to imagine what it is that you're doing. It begins as dissonance, but it soon becomes noise, and finally chaos. It's beautiful and it's exhilarating and it's terrible, but most of all it's draining--it drains the very core of you, and that's what creates it, the cacophony, the symphony of sound. I both love and hate the emptiness it causes, if only for a moment.