Obsession

This is, as promised, the blurb from the book my roommate wants me to work on. Tell me what you think?


I’ve decided that you cannot and will not ever truly understand a person until you can understand their obsessions. Everyone has at least one, and they, above all other things define a person. We’ve all met someone obsessed with their religion, or someone obsessed with how they look, obsessed with cars… And when I say obsessed, I don’t mean the way teens desperately try to follow fashion trends. I mean obsession the way that a cat will sit and watch a caged bird that lies just out of her reach for hours on end, leaving only to sleep, eat, and answer to the demands of its body, all the while imagining that same bird in its minds eye.

Unfortunately for me I feel that this means no one will ever really understand me. Music is my obsession; with the way it is flowing around us constantly like a liquid which varies in thickness, sometimes smothering us like a blanket while also at times drifting by so faintly as to be completely unnoticeable consciously. With the way it speaks when I cannot. And that is the part so many find so hard to understand. When I sing, you can see its effect on me… When I sing, and I mean it, you can feel it…Or at least I hope you can. I leave lyrics in the dust, messages for you to find and hopefully interpret. Most people I guess don’t really see it. Don’t know what I mean; they think I’m just writing down lyrics from a song stuck randomly in my head. Sometimes this is true, but not usually.

Part of understanding my obsession is understanding my music, which is hard because I listen to so much music, and so much of what I listen to almost no one I know has heard of. Which really makes it hard for them to understand it… I guess I’m stuck then huh?