Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.
I cannot get enough of the man. When I listen to Mozart, I feel "sunshined." Mozart is aural Prozac. Beautiful waves of music and voices cascade over me--through me--and I feel that if I listen too much, my heart may burst from gratitude, love.
It is fucking gorgeous music, man.
No one did it better. Beethoven is genius, sure, but even Ludwig pales in comparison to the great Wolfie. Haydn can suck a cock. His music is pretty, lilting, but he is a Mozart clone. And he lacks...something. Mozart had it, whatever it is.
When I put in a Mozart CD--and play it--I am imbued with an overall feeling of well-being. It is almost as if Wolf-dog double-chucked a seratonin shotgun and blasted me in the head, the heart.
Smiles--sad smiles--cross easily across my countenance. It is almost as if I cannot believe that so much Beauty can be packed into such a small space. I cannot put into words how I feel when I listen to Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. I have tried, here--briefly--but these words are not enough.
I implore you--even if you think classical music is for sissies or you think it's boring--I implore you to give Wolfie a chance. Listen in a dark room, with no bothersome interruptions. Light an incense stick. Sit in a fluffy chair. If you don't come within twenty-four minutes, you need to get your genitals checked out.
I'm done. I'm just here to help.