In the corner of my room is my piano. It is not a real piano, but an elaborate keyboard. There are times when I sit down in my green wicker chair and touch the keys. I don't play, just touch. I find a soothing, almost calming vibration transmit from the keys to my fingers, and from my fingers to my heart.
When I play, you will not hear wonderful music as you would hear from Beethoven, but more like a two year old hitting pots on a kitchen floor. The magical emotional part is what follows, my singing. In my corner I sing, and I express myself through the great writing of others. In my corner you will often hear me scream out in rage when I sing out of tune or miss pronounce a word, but the screaming is soothing to me.
In my corner I relieve my stress and I tell my stories and the stories of others. I am not a writer so you will not hear me strive to rhyme, but you will hear the rhymes of other writers with many of the same pains as I. In my corner there are pencils, you will not find pens. The reason is that there is no permanent note I can make to myself while singing. Something I may think on day can turn to the opposite the next day. My corner gives off vibrations to me, there is never a day that I can reject its calming, soothing medicines. There is a reason there is only one chair in front of my keyboard, and that is that I do not share.
Too often do I express emotions that I do not want others to hear so I do not share them with others. That is one of the better things about my corner in my room, no one can hear me or my keyboard. It is truly a place where I can go by myself and relax and express myself. My corner sooths me much like music sooths the soul.