Monsoon Dissonance

There’s a rain that falls on occasion. It tears through my subconscious and pierces through the veil in some misguided attempt to stir these latent emotions into something more tangible. The pieces are still missing, though, and as much as I’d love to let that miasma bubble to the surface, exposed for the world to see, it’s lacking in a certain tenderness that I’d want to project to the world.

Why that’s a necessity is beyond me. Some pathetic attempt at remaining rounded and relatable, instead of ascending to new, preposterous heights. I spent so long surrounded by people who believed they’d reached those heights without putting in the effort. They’d never spill metaphorical blood in a pale moonlight in search of transcendence. They’d never given up a part of themselves in hopes some day the world would smile upon them. That there would be a day when he reached down from the heavens and muttered those words that have sat at the tip of his tongue, but never spoken. “I’m proud of you.”

Could you imagine that? The euphoria of those words pouring out after all these years and bringing the end to years of uncertainty. Yet, they never happened, nor will they ever, so I remain a suspended chord in a sea of resolutions, refusing to let that neat IV V resolve to the I. Why the fuck should I? Life isn’t about resolution, at least not to that extent. It's about letting those discordant notes ring out and never let go, and instead of writing them off as unpleasant or ‘wrong,’ to embrace them. They’re as much a part of me as any neat modulated bridge-chorus ever could be.

So, I’m getting soaked under the oppressive downpour, the fat drops hardening while they fall, turning to sharper pellets of ice that pierce my skin. If I were to look away, what would the point be? This moment only exists in isolation. Stepping away, underneath a protective awning would merely give this storm more power over me. Hasn’t it had enough of that? If my missing pieces are an integral part of my self, embracing the chaos while hail accumulates at my feet, each stone leaving its mark without hesitation, why should I hesitate? If I was never good enough, then there’s no reason to hold back.

There’s no reason to pretend I’m restrained or allowing the world to dictate to me what I’m supposed to be. I’m not supposed to be anything. Whatever anyone else wanted for me was their own head canon, built off of fallacies and incongruities that I refuse to reckon with. If the message is the medium, then I’m letting the monsoon overcome me; embracing the pain and the uneven nature. Because in that moment I understood how fleeting these moments truly were. They only last for a fleeting glimpse, even if the marks they leave linger for much longer.

Missing pieces.

They’re all around me, melting as soon as they touch the ground. Although I try to gather them up, my fingers melt them down and turn them into nothing but tears fallen from on high, meant to stay for a moment, evaporate, and return to the sky.

Unlike me. These aren’t my missing pieces, even if you want them to be.

—

I write to music a lot. Sometimes the music takes me. This song, Missing Pieces, by Boris, is one I’ve been going back to a lot. I love the concept of the song, which is a bass and mid boost EQ, along with a high frequency cut, with what sounds like a high pass filter thrown over it to make it sound like a muffled radio transmission, and those moments of clarity when the song breaks through feel… transcendental.

It’s truly a beautiful song. I had to write something to it, and I’m glad that I did.

Monsoons where I live tend to be quick, relatively intense storms, that will sometimes include hail.

I dislike explaining my writing, but I enjoy sharing music I love. As the US slips deeper into the throes of fascism, I find it difficult to maintain a level of excitement over sharing my work, but I’ll tell you this, I believe in it. There’s a power in writing about this nonsense. I spent seven years writing about the rise of tech oligarchs, the strange relationships between religion and government, and how it’s necessary for all of us to oppose it.

Check out Iconoclast. Smash the systems that hold us down.