[ WP ] A new drug let 's you live a lifetime in one dream

Some said I was born with a violin in my hand. While this obviously was n't true, I remember my parents giving me my first Stradivarius at the age of seven, having begged them practically since I could speak. My mother was especially worrisome; countless times I overheard her telling my father and others that my obsession with the instrument was manic and unhealthy. This fear had vanished by the time I was eleven and accepted into Julliard. I was considered the best in the world before I reached my twenties, but I still was not satisfied. By this time, I had many companions to offer me distraction, but they always felt that my music was more important to them. And they were right; distractions were all they were. 
 
 Around my 28th year, I had decided I learned all I could about the instrument, and so I had enough of this lifetime. The fault, of course, was that I tried to end it in front of one of these distractions who happened to be a resident at the nearby hospital. Instead of waking up in my bed, I woke up in that of a psych ward with my bandaged wrists restrained. In a short bout of panic, tried wrestling my way out of there, but that only called for alarms and sedatives. Within the week, my parents, numerous past `` distractions,'' and countless fans from all over had come pouring in in show of support. I made the mistake of telling one of the doctors that none of it mattered, and all I wanted to do was wake up. Of course this was a sign of illusionment, and called for even more restraints and fewer visitors. 
 
 One evening, the distraction who had committed me came in to visit, full of tears. 
 
 `` Why are you doing this?'' 
 
 `` I... I have lost my passion,'' I said. 
 
 `` But there is so much more to life than music! There is so much to love in life!'' 
 
 `` Not for me,'' I replied. `` I am only here to learn the Violin. That is all I have ever cared about in this lifetime.'' 
 
 I could hear the heartbreak behind the crying. I did not care. 
 
 `` So that's it? There was never anything between you and me? You never felt anything for anyone else in this world? Not even your parents?'' 
 
 My parents materialized in the room. Several of the other distractions as well. They began to fill the room, first lining the walls, then taking up every space available, excepting a small path toward the window where I could see the twilight of dawn peeking in. I could hear each of their voices coalescing in a call for me to stay with them. 
 
 As I looked around, I saw my old Stradivarius being passed slowly through the crowd toward me. I took it, only realizing after the fact that my hands and wrists were not only unbound but had no sign of damage to them anymore. I softly began playing an excerpt of [ Sibelius's Violin Concerto ] ( https: //www.youtube.com/watch? v=GX-240cNDIk ) as I stepped out of the hospital bed. I walked toward the window, and turned to face the crowd. Most of them had become faceless, their voices silenced. The growing sunlight felt warm against the back of my neck. As the concerto crescendoed, I could hear the wind coming through the window as it opened up behind me. I sat on the sill. The bow continued to glide across the strings. I closed my eyes. I leaned back slowly, letting gravity take over. I could feel a slight chill in the air, but there was no wind. I continued playing all the way down. It was my best performance yet. 
 
 -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- 
 
 I awaken, exhilarated but not jumping out of bed. There is a cold sweat about me, though I had apparently kicked the blankets off in my slumber. I look at the clock; only a few hours since I had gone to bed. I walk to the kitchen and have a glass of water, then to the den, where my great-grandfather's violin sits on the mantelpiece. I take it down and pluck the strings; tight, but out of tune. Minor adjustments are made. I take the bow down and tighten it. With a deep breath and long exhale, I pick up Sibelius's concerto where my dream had left off. My fingers stumble a little, but I know this is just a matter of training the muscles. 
 
 When the song is finished, I decide that maybe next I will learn a martial art -- maybe even pick up on the Japanese language a little bit. But not tonight. Maybe not this week. I will need some restful sleep first.
