Because not enough people think there is such a thing as good art and bad art, because to think so is elitist, because art is subjective, because art is about what it makes you feel, and because no one can tell you what to feel. Because you do not understand what it is about certain songs that make a lot of people feel one way or another but they do because perfect songs exist and because no one panics about this enough. Because yes, not everyone, because that would be impossible, because sometimes you do leave the theatre and have to pretend you liked the movie for what feels like forever until he thanks you for the ride home. Because there are a lot of movies that you feel to be subpar, because you feel this in the same way you feel there are movies that are better than others. Because everyone feels this deep down in their bones but as soon as you say so your dumb boyfriend(’s dad) jumps up like, “YOU CAN’T SAY THAT!!”, practically foaming at the mouth at the scent of blood. Because a long time ago, a bunch of men got together to decide that everything is relative and nothing matters and made everyone else believe this too, about art and first and foremost, so that they could kill people for money/sport. Because no one can explain how a song could sound so much like grief, because when someone suggested Bach wrote it for his wife when she died, everyone just ran with it. Because the song sounds so much like a song Bach would have written for his wife when she died that it could be about nothing else. Because when Schumann tried to transcribe it for the piano he found he only could if he wrote it for the left hand alone, because otherwise the feeling of the piece was lost, because the feeling of the piece was its soul, one that was desolate and alone, having found the limit between life and death. The violin can only sound three notes at once; Bach forces four or even five. The violinist is only able to sound them in time.
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