One morning,in 1817,Beethoven realized that he’s now deaf.I can see him sitting,almost crying,as he tries to hear the sound of his piano keys.
when you ask me why don’t I trust people more often,I tell you a story about this man who killed his wife,and then jumped from the golden bridge with his new born child.If human relations were a subject,then I am the student who secretly cries in the bathroom because he can’t understand what the fuck is happening.
You think you know anxiety? Imagine thousands of pebbles in your feet.Imagine drinking from a salty lake.Imagine starting a forest fire that destroys the whole goddamn town.I say I can’t handle love.It feels alien.It feels like sleeping in a bed that’s not mine.and you say,look at Beethoven -he composed magical tunes even after turning deaf .
What makes you think you can’t overcome whatever the hell this is? And I say you won’t get it,because to you,believing comes easy.
Did you know Beethoven loved a woman,but couldn’t marry her because she was rich?
So,he composed Moonlight sonata wishing someday she’ll give it a listen.
And I keep wasting ink writing letters that you’ll never read.
I think Beethoven knew what I mean….