July 2018

There’s a reason metal and rap are so compatible but also not. A person who likes one would probably like the other too, but put together their similarities are exactly what makes them incompatible, they’re too loud and too cocky. In metal the music is so loud, it has the importance of a protagonist and that’s why when the singer has something to say he screams. But in rap it’s the opposite, what matters are the words, the rapper, that’s why the music can be sampled, it is always second place. Yet there’s a philosophical way of thinking the music in its whole that is very similar. For both genres you gotta have something to say or you’re never gonna make it, people listen to them because they need a reason or a battle to carry on for. Yet metal rap music sounds cacophonic, the music is too loud to leave space to the voice and the voice is too fast to be understandable under it. That’s why what I think is that they are philosophically compatible but physically incompatible.

The next thing I wondered was if one could get high with passive weed smoke. Later that night I expressed my doubt out loud, and my friend’s friends informed me that yes, that was totally a thing, but if I was high I would have noticed. And so, there I was, shocked by I don’t even know what craving for a cigarette for the first time after over a year. And that was just the first time I would face that craving. I’m not one to get into addictions, or better, I get into stuff, I just don’t feel addiction like people do. I could start smoking and then drop it like it was nothing, while I know people who are actually struggling to get out of that. I am also very much capable of resisting temptations. And that is why even though all three of the guys I was out with were smoking I didn’t touch a single cigarette.

A few weeks later there was an episode. I craved a cigarette again, and maybe that time I wouldn’t have resisted the temptation if I had the occasion. But I didn’t have it. Not one in sight, not a friend who could offer me one. And so I went on.

Days later a guy offered me a cigarette and I said “no” without hesitation in my voice. If only anyone at that table would have known how much those two letters costed me…

I read a fanfiction, then, that talked about a writer and how he would have liked to write about everything good and bad happening around him. He wanted to write about the eyes that got into his soul, he wanted to write about spectacular views from his window and so on. It got me thinking, not only because the view from my window is so closed and little and familiar it made me want to cry, but also because I hadn’t write in what seemed ages and I felt that same urge to sit with my laptop and write all the words in my head. So I did. I sat down opened that new laptop and started. It was like a flow, the words flew one after the other and the sound of the keyboard was so beautiful to my ears until I had to stop. My mom had called me. That file laid open on the page for a while, though.