After All, by Mojave 3

We trick ourselves into believing we are happy. We postpone, defer, intoxicate ourselves looking for a light. We are afraid, in the end, of truly feeling. We hear the first key, the guitar being scratched, the paced, regular slow march of percussive chords. In times of speed, slowness appears as unwanted, as sad: "please change that, it's depressing". We live in a culture of make-up and façade, the eternal masking of emotion. If it touches you, it's undesirable. Culture of superficiality and fear; culture of simulacra and pretense. But this music touches within, defies prejudices and demands from the listener an open skin, the acceptance of unhealed wounds. No, don't change that, sit there, still, and listen. Look into your abyss. After all, we are just looking for love. It takes a little strength. The will to look within. Give a smile to your own loneliness. Find something to believe in, holding tight. It's a question, after all, of becoming conscious. Things are not right but we pretend they are. We think no one else notices, but it is felt, indeed. Sit still. Dance with your broken heart. Listen to the cello come in, shine in its bass darkness with the luminous guitar, guided by the basic, delicious keyboard. The voice is spectral, as slow as the time needed to heal, full of echoes and siren's chants. We are all in a desert, under the starry night of our lonely self. But loneliness does not have to be painful. Have the will to stop having fear of being afraid, of feeling sad, of remembering, of accepting your failures. Let music speak to you and reveal truths. After all, this is something to believe in.