Music has me again. I feel the voices, the notes soar. They might as well be tangible things, the way they skate across my skin as a curious insect might. Times like this, and breathing normally isn’t enough. Can I breathe notes in, as I breathe them out when the spirit moves me? This can’t be casually done. Come to me, music. They say we are what we eat. Right now, I want to be what I breathe. In and out. In and out.