I was listening to, and playing music that I wrote being played exactly how I wanted it to sound. I was behind the drums, but everything came together perfectly after only 2 hours of playing together. There is a part where everyone drops out except for a extra warm clean guitar, at full volume, playing a lonely waltz at half-time. The bass guitar comes in about thirty seconds later, playing under the melody. It is a "quiet" part, quiet enough to hear the low frequencies vibrating my snares like twenty shivering souls. My arms got so heavy from feeling the sadness of the song that I perceived everything to in slow-motion. The pace of the melody builds, the shimmering lead guitar dances around you, and finally I get to pummel the peacefulness into oblivion. I feel like I am beating off the hounds of hell with each two-armed cymbal crash. Then the waltz breaks into a gallop (reminded me of the part in The Return of the King where Sam has to carry Frodo the last few steps up Mt. Doom). At the peak of the discord, there is a roll and a crash, and the guitars fade out with a mighty kraangg, as though a mountain was climbed only to fall off the cliff on the other side.

I believe playing music is about as close to having a spirtual experience as I will ever have.