Not really, at least ...well maybe he's a character that controls sound. I wanted him to be genetically predisposed with the power.

But, I was just writing.

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I felt so heavy. So tired and drained. Willing to do something. Why is it that at your weakest moment you feel the need to do something big. Have an effect. I slammed the fridge door with an almost satisfying bang and then thunder sounded after it. . .I paused in my strike to take it in. As if I made the thunder clap. Or maybe that's just me. The absence of my effect on the world falls on to me at times of weakness. I sat on my bed slumping with my guitar I could only half play. I waited for the pointlessness to set in and then screamed words of rhythm. Strumming repetitive. Voice raining vertical radio sounds. Eyes closed. I poured myself out onto ears I wish were there. My vibrations sounded good to me. I felt the thunder clap to my calamity. A parallel of sound in my mind and reality. Destruction! My eyes were shocked open by crumbling sounds. . .and the breeze blew in my face. A gaping whole pronounced it self focal. My wall shattered ...my kitchen wall. I ran and jumped through the break out side guitar in hand and backed up slowly into the road. Looking at the massive whole. Eyes wide. Mind racing. I look down at my guitar with a paused and then strummed it. The glass blasted off my Dads car. "Ho-lee -craps!" I whispered. I've got a lot of explaining to do. I felt so light.