Music Makes Me

Cheerful music. Churning out chords. A windmill of niceness. Music brings me an effect. Syllables, and chorography. Are just floating. Above stage lights. During my own turmoil. Passively lying around. I don’t know where my last three singles came from. They just dropped from the ceiling like horrifying slime. It makes me do things. Not laugh. Not cook. Not talk. Just… More music. Cheerful music. Those stage lights will never go away. Ambition cycles through. I pick up my guitar sometimes. I throw it into a different dimension but it just gets worse. Stepping in sync with a pile of sludge. And that’s how you become a star.