You gasped for air on the freezing mountain, your numb fingers stretching toward the dark night sky, with your eyes blurring from the dizziness of oxygen loss and your muscles collapsing into that hazy, almost warm feeling that comes when an exhuasted body is slowly sinking into the insulation of feet of snow. The last time you gasped for air on that freezing mountain, your rattling breath dragged out over the eternal slow distance of several seconds and as the blurriness creeped in from the edges of your eyes, all sound slowly faded away from the world and you heard music. The drifting snow bells of a studio guitar melting over a sleigh spread softly through the air, tinkling through the stillness of the air and filling the emptiness where oxygen should have been. Your lungs slowly breathed in the golden music and it seeped into your bloodstream, providing a tiny spark of warmth against the all encompassing cold. In the haze of your mind, all you could see was a gray fogginess now, and as the snow shut off all sounds of the outside world the music became more clear. Sunk into the snow the ringing guitar chords were bright and clear, and as they dripped across the air, desperately needed chilled water dripped, flowing down into your open aching mouth, coalescing in the front of your mouth like the melting particles of snow when you eat it, sinking along your throat and hydrating your body with water more fresh and purifying than any other water.

As you died there on that mountain in the night, with no way to escape the weakening power of the freezing cold and gasping for air that wasn't there, the natural instincts of a body took over the high strung ambitions of your mind and in that moment you were truly alone. At peace, with no struggle to connect back with the outside world, you let the natural order of things take you over and only in that moment were you truly yourself.

It's like when you blow bubbles through your straw into a chocolate milkshake.