Music Is The Secret We Must All Evolve Into.

Music is the secret we must all evolve into! Art is the music of one's soul. We are born artists with the designated need/desire to connect and express our innate yearnings. To stifle that which is creatively instinctive is worse than dying a slow torturous death.

Music/art/drama arise out of an whirling instilled divine sensual energy flow: a sacred sexual vibrating swirling force which will and does find its exact defined manifestation. Distort, retard, or cripple it and man is no more than a starved savage beast...

An unmistakable ineffable song of indescribable liberty abounds within each of us. The remotely familiar lyrical melody, the relatively haunting engaging chord structure, the intriguing easily digestible and remarkably palatable harmonically induced rhythm gently bids us to "come hither; return to that which thou doest love and need in order to be free.

Dance. Sing. Be Merry. Rejoice in overwhelming irresistible pleasure, without the sense of guilt attached.

For some unknown reason, we deny and shy away from the natural and convenient inclination that so dauntingly lures us to embrace its inherited passion. We not only deny it's call, we sublimate it's distinctive delectable tone. We procrastinate and silently fume, never consciously realizing that we are cutting off the deepest yearning of fulfilling our souls. Nothing else will suffice.

{Not family. Not lovers. Not vocation. Not education. Not fortune or fame. Not religion.} Nothing. Ironically, we end up feeling ashamed for no apparent reason when experiencing this ONE precious desire. We go so far as to even feel aplogetic not knowing why we can't be satisfied or subdued.

The mere mention of the possibility of the idea of indulging ourselves in such unexpressed beauty in Musical Rapture's Repose of the Self brings on an inexplicable sadness.But, why should it be that way?

Ignorance. Plain and simple ignorance. We simply don't know how to receive ourselves in fullness. We invent reasons, logical explanations as to why we 'feel' a certain way or on the very same token, 'Don't feel anything at all.' No matter how much we evade the issue or to what lengths we go to try to mask our innate yearnings, the song will not be silenced.

We can no t nor will no t be able to escape the melodic bliss of the undeniable 'song of unsung self'. Unceasing tones ring out without definition or recall. How does one recognize the release of that undulating unforgettable tune?

By and through the slight tilt of the head, the whimsical gesture of the hands, the hypnotic motion of the eyes, the irresistible luring of the lips,the intoxicating nuances and inflections in the voice, the energectic bounce in one's gait encompassed and embraced in the totality of expression manifested throughout one's sexual sensual energy established and maintained in one's body throughout his/her lifetime.

Sexual Energy is the highest form of spiritual energy available to mankind. It is Musical in nature. Yes, the Music is in you...deep within you, and it resounds through layers and layers and layers of spheres vortexed in your core. The intricate explicit essence of who and what you are radiates from this ubiquitous dimension. It's Esoteric {hidden} Music speaks only to you in a specific language of personal code and symbol.

It's sacred mysterious veil remains tightly sealed and undisturbed until you alone invite its unambiguious presence to make its abode with you. There have been times, few in number and far in sequence, when the Musical door of reference marked "Enter at thy own risk" pushed itself slighlty back, enough for you to enter therein, but you did not.

You, once again, returned to the tinsel world of distraction and discontent. However, you were not released before and without hearing and being indelibly implanted with a minute measure of the unutterable sounds of orgasmic ecstasy that belong singularly to you. No doubt the unquenchable spirit was more than you were willing to bear at the time when crowded and consumed with/by a life of superficial busyness. Yet, the caressing splendor of its soothing melodic majestic refrain left you with an uniquely fashioned demanding appetite for nothing less than the Music of Liberty and Truth. It's a shame.

A crying blistering shame that such untold grief and sorrow must be exchanged for the ultimately satisfying and rewarding musical joy contained within the self. Such untold unexpressed orgasmic delight lays dormant waiting patiently to be experienced. Worldly ambitions can't touch the magnanimous enthusiasm of the Soul's Musical Palisade.

The tenderest moment shared between two lovers merely hints at the sublime pleasure encountered. IF this be so, then tell me why oh why is such a place of aesthetic advantage and benefit left unexplored? Because "IT" the Music of one's soul is far too dangerous to be released in full measure. Far too dangerous to be entered into lightly and irreverently. {Far too exhilarating to engage committedly into that ONE Sacred desire that reigns supreme above all others.} A death must occur along with a shattering of illusions.

Once having been sheltered and wooed into the bosom of her beguiling ecstasy, you will be forever changed in an instant. Never more to be pampered or influenced by outside duties or responsibilities. Never again will you be in a position of feeling like you owe someone allegiance or betrothal. You will be in possession of your own truth which will enable you to create new worlds of which you may facilitate and inhabit.

But, be aware and forewarned: Music will not be a mistress to anybody or anything! It will be at your own discretion and decision to follow her fragrant path of unimaginable pleasure. I will say this much and this much only: the next time someone (whether known or unknown) asks you, "What do you do?"

Tell them you don't have a clue. Instead, remark, rather coyly, if you must, that you have heard it hummed somewhere and been made slightly aware of an effervescent elusive tune in four notes, named:"What I don't do."

And, due to the fact that the majority of your time is spent involved in superficial pursuits, meaningless ventures, heart-renderingly unproductive soul's activities, and because you choose to engage your time, effort and energy in jobs performing tasks that in no way connect you to your real passion that even the money you receive from the jobs for the hours you expend do nothing to add meaning or fulfillment to your life nor peace to your mind.

You are, at this particular time in your existence, permanently dissatisfied and unsettled. (that's what you do.) Tell them also that you, no doubt, continue to yearn for that unconquerable peace that arises from a place of such Musical Splendor you've only heard mentioned along the way. How the very whisper of its notion drives you insane with unrewarded jealousy and yet nothing changes, you remain embalmed with indifference. Insist to them that you KNOW beyond a shadow of a doubt that the Song of Truth and Liberty that resides deep within you screams to you every moment you are awake waiting for you to respond. Even penetrating your dreams at night, deliberately haunting you by its elusive breath of subliminal unrequited passion.

And, because of your obstinate stubborn refusal to answer the call of your soul's yearning, you are not the least bit vested in yourself or others. {You admit that nothing has captured your enduring attention for long.}

You are aware that you are continually restless, bored, irritable, impatient and unsavory to be around but that is rests not in blaming the other nor ends with being unjustifiably angry all the time but requires of you to stop and face the MUSIC playing deep within your soul.

But, because you are running a proverbial rat race of unending dubious circles of cyclic perilous patterns that lead nowhere but into a pit of sheer and utter depression, you find yourself confused, bewildered and mad. Then, IF the other person is still standing before you waiting to be released from your never ending soliloquy, make no explanations or excuses but rather start singing your song.

In fact, start laughing uncontrollably in song and dance. Sing and dance throughout your house, your car, your shower, your yard. Don't stop.

When others inquire of you, seeking to know if you have in fact taken leave of your sences, Sing louder and more profuse. Swing and sling every lyric torrentially from the incessant rain of your throat and lungs. Sing every word and note you can remember from every song you've ever learned since childhood.

And, when you have spun them out like the glistening webs of an early morning spider, make up words and tunes of your own that reflect the state of your drowning and swooning sorrow.

Start dancing in the streets, on the roof tops, throughout the paved and unpaved roads until you have exhausted every ounce of the MUSICAL tone of truth found within. In the midst of this unbounded reverie you shall find sweet victory and gracious freedom. Behold you and envelope your unspeakable glory!