The minute he steps into his car, the minute he turns that key, it’s followed by the outburst of mellifluous sounds. 

Sometimes, its slow and breathy or fast and piercing, he can’t help but move to it. Either it’s his head or his arms or even a little wiggle of his bum. 

It’s music, its his love, his high and low, it’s his past and future, its the things he cannot see but feel, its the life he pictures in his mind, this is not his drug mind you.. He’s in control.

People keep going because of the force of different things that drive them, say coffee for example, it keeps you alert, ready for the day, some can’t go without it, definitely not Ghanaians, they’ll go for something solid. 

But not him, for him, it’s his music, that’s what keeps him.. Its his constant, it has yet to fail. 

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Waking up means the night is over for me, I’m not particularly happy about it because I love the night more than anything, I feel like it was made for me.

I’m alive when everyone is dead.. .  

Dead asleep I mean.  

But I need to live like a normal human as I am no bat. 

The moment I step into the shower, the moment that chilled water hits my face, its the flow of rich sounds. 

Most of the time, its slow and showers are turned into thinking boxes.. 

But then, there’s also the time I want to be silly and just sing in the shower to a fast paced song and grab unto the pole in front of me (well it looks like a pole to me) and really go down. 

There, the day is starting to look bright.

For some, they need to take that black Coke to find that energy.

For me, it’s music. It’s my high and my lows. It’s a journey I will never take in my body. It’s a safe place where no one can gate crash. It’s in my blood. 

The moment I step out into the world. . 

It’s the  gentle rush of voices and pianos and cellos, guitars, violins, drums, hmmm.. The saxophone which gives you jazz, its this new guy called Jon and Tata Vega’s desperate cry. It’s so sweet, you should hear it. 

It’s so sweet, I can’t hear the guy cursing behind me, reeking of booze. I simply cannot be bothered that heat still exists. My steps are quicker, the troski rides are faster, the hustle in Accra cannot stop the melody in my ears. 

It’s music people. . . 

********************************

And when we have to go through the unpleasantness of life, the pains, the hurt yet again, the literal heart aches, the hunger, the bitterness, the wounds that are not healing, the gaps that are left when a loved one passes. 

It is music that goes with us… 

Then there’s the laughter too, the joy, the dancing, new life, new love and kisses, the victories and the better part of life in general.

It is still music that goes through with us. 

It’s not just the sounds, the genre, progressions, turning points, instrumentation, the dynamics, or rhythm and tempo or yes!! The beautiful harmony and the pitch perfect vocalist.  

It’s the words they speak.

The words written. . . 

Words are life you see, but the right words. 

John 6:63 It is the spirit that quickeneth; the flesh profiteth nothing: 

the words that I speak unto you, they are spirit, and they are life. 

That’s what we get when we choose the right music, LIFE not anxiety, euphoria or paranoia. 

LIFE people. . . 

_Lorraine Stitch 

Image: Pinterest 

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