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It'd take more than a thousand words to explain how I feel when listening to music. Whether I'm listening to classical or whether rock, emo or even pop. Feel the musical arms caress me so slowly, the musical notes dance on my fingers and feeling the beat of a drum or boom box in my head down to the inches of my toes, feeling the musical rhythm flow through my body like the slow waves of a gentle ocean or feeling the rhythmic beat of a stick against the head of a snare drum making me bounce to the beat, or hearing the plastic pick strum against the metal strings of an acoustic guitar, or hearing the lion's roar of an electric guitar.

Listening to classical music makes me feel as if time slowed, or even rewind. As the finger of the musician plays the key, making the hammer strike the string blossoming a note as that of a flower in spring.

When rock pounds at my ears like a hammer on a nail, when an electric roars, when the drum beats, when the bass rhythm, the anger that rest below my feet rises like mercury in hot summer. The disturbed mess in me shifts like leaves in the wind. And then I finally feel that sweet release of listening to the last note and then dead silence. Feeling the sweet release of the compulsive hands let me go, letting me become free from that darkness inside me.

It's bitter and sweet, hopeful and depressing. It's love and hate. It's dark and light, life and death. It's how to escape our lives, our world. To escape our sorrow, or sadness. And yet it's a way of making us hapy, cheerful, and filling us with joy.

Music is expression, music is us. Not even a thousand words could explain how I feel when listening to Music.