Gymnopédie No. 1

I grew up listening to classical music. I think it’s the most honest music of all times, just pure emotions. The instrument and the human become one person and create their own language – no words needed. Maybe it’s because my parents always listened to classical music while I was growing up. Every time I listen to it, something inside me is happening, it’s like a self-healing process. A process I very much need.

When I was four, I got abused by the oldest son of our neighbour. He always used to come over to take care of us and “play”.. but we never played what I wanted. Every memory of my past is completely blurry to me besides those few. I will always remember them. They burned themselves into my memory. Till I die. He will always be a part of my life.

I don’t hate him anymore, because it hides me from being happy, but I do hope that he suffers. I don’t want to give up on my life just because he decided to mark it forever, but I struggle. It takes all my strength to stay positive and sometimes I ask myself “For What?” sooner or later I will die anyway. He abused me, he made me to not trust anyone and he made me weak.
Those haunting memory nights are basically all the same. Thoughts are coming, I put on my classical records by the London Philharmonic Orchestra and fade away. I like this kind of routine, because it gives me stability and that’s what I think is the most important need for people who are struggling. Music is my stability. My family and friends can’t help me to forget it, they help me coping it, but only music allows me to shut those memories off.