Hit me
Kick me
Concuss me
Bludgeon me
Make me feel what I can't
Make me feel what I won't
Put into words what I can't
Put into words what I won't

Soul quivering and tear inducing when first heard
until they become my favorite friends, familiar in every nuance, in every note
Perspectives and eras I've never thought of, put into word
Narratives, stories, tragedies, practiced over and over again

Pop while I munch pop rocks
Rockin' and Rollin' on my way to class
familial Folk tunes to remember childhood

flowery Instrumentals to read by
chill Lo-fi beats for studying
and Rap tracks for study too

My playlists are my playground
they morph odder and odder
curiouser and curiouser
as I evolve

so my official genre and taste is

Alternative

Indie

and Electro Swing

even some

Glitch Hop

They sound like diagnoses
They sound like conditions
They sound like symptoms
of the ill

Different culture soundtracks of Moana, Kubo, Encanto, Spiderverse, Coco
You can't tell me these instrumentations aren't a Whac-A-Mole game of

diversity, culture, nations, people, races, languages, colors

They give me, a commoner, the gift of musical synesthesia
as I listen to blue-purple-black strings, lime-pine-slime shades of green piano chords

all mixing and fighting with red-yellow-orange violins, harp, guitar, harmonica
that swelter like sunstones tiger's eyes, amber rubies, and golden topaz.
The wine goblet getting filled with rudy magenta cello, viola, and bass notes
until the technicolor song smoothie is blended to a symphony.

You can live and die in the span of 3:30 minutes—
210 seconds of devotion you give to a new life
in a song.
210 seconds to make or break your trust
as you listen to the song, on average only as long as 3:30 minutes.

So I guess I only listen to the strange and unusual musicals
that are steampunk, thriller, pop-rock, horror, comedy, folk, murder mystery, hippiepunk, techno

So I guess I always know bands my friends and family have never heard of
and never get passes the aux cord

So I guess I am sick

Sick of FM radio
Sick of Top 40 Song Charts
Sick of The Hot 100 Billboard List

I will never settle for tired, familiar, boring.
I will hold my stethoscope headphones to the heartbeat of music, the heartbeat of my gospel.
I won't give up on finding new instruments, the electric bagpipes, the kalimba, the theremin.
I won't give up the machine gun smack of rap that makes my flesh goosebump.

Because if it doesn't bring a tear, a chill, a smirk, a hum, a jig, a pause,
what's music good for?