Marriage of Metal

I am in my bedroom at the brown house. I'm in ninth grade. Candles are burning in my closet with the beaded door and black light. My stereo's speakers try desperately to withstand the volume of the music. I'm entranced by the lonesome howl of the electric guitar...my heart beats faster as the drums begin...I lose myself in the rhythm and bass of the undertones. I am experienced. I am comforted and soothed by the raw chords and riffs. I see the music. The music sees me. It remains my constant friend throughout my entire explusion. They remain my friend today. They are Metallica.

This isn't the rant of one lunatic whose fascination with metal has driven her to an obsessive belief that music will heal any wound. But it helped to heal mine. I had people, friends, family and teachers who stood by me...but alone I had the music.

Now, almost thirteen years later, I see myself needing an outlet once more. My writing, my art, and in the background there is music. That music is still Metallica.