when music is useless

The music overwhelms me with its sound.  

I'm not sure what it was.  Maybe it was the long, boring day.  Maybe it was being betrayed by a work friend.  Maybe it was putting up with stressful people.  Maybe it was the encroachment of real life on my work life - both perfect, but perfect only when separate.

I really don't like this music at all.

I didn't sleep well last night. It was my fault; I knew a cold night was ahead but I stubbornly left my window open.  I don't remember my dreams, I never do.  I'm sure they were the neutral kind, the dreams that reflect a life that is neither good nor bad, a life that just is.

Perhaps skipping this song will make it better.

I know Jesus calls me to follow Him.  I feel like I am failing at following.  Mediocrity, a life that just is.  I'm paralyzed.  Always have been, maybe.  There's only so much I can do, and I don't even do that.

The music puts my nerves on edge.  I can't bring myself to skip it.  Or stop it.

Why do I keep my lives separate?  I love work, I love real life, and I very carefully compartmentalize them.  When life gets complicated, I gladly throw it all away.  I embrace new starts rather than fixing the broken.  The new quickly becomes broken as well.  And I'm left where I started.  A failure.

Finally a song that matches me.  "I don't like what I've become."

I don't know what I'm thinking.  I feel removed and alienated.  I feel entirely uprooted.  Profoundly un-belonging.  Fundamentally placeless and friendless.

I give up.  Forget it.