there is nothing quite like rachmaninoff.
grand and magnificent and captivating and wonderful, like the beauty and the glory of the world all captured in one chord progression. it stretches up into the brilliant summer night sky, so large and majestic, but then it reaches deep down inside of me and pulls everything out, bits of lia floating everywhere. the melodies smell like cool mountain air, feel like sweet creek water trickling inside my bones. they brush past my skin, past my thoughts and carry me up with them, far from my papers and my books and everything horrible. suddenly i feel weightless, suddenly i am flying.
i think
this is what heaven is like.
No comments:
Post a Comment