The Sonic Wallpaper of My Skull
Since the start, I've enjoyed 'the wrong ear' that my cousins used to call mine. While they were out there dancing to whatever Metro FM was serving, I was crouched in a corner somewhere with my Discman...
Identity
The Sonic Wallpaper of My Skull
By MoAfrika Skotch Ntilane, 21 May 2025
Since the start, I've enjoyed "the wrong ear" that my cousins used to call mine. While they were out there dancing to whatever Metro FM was serving, or yelling boy band choruses along the school corridor, I was crouched in a corner somewhere with my Discman, yelling out The Offspring's Self Esteem.
I chose the underground ones because they spoke to me. I wasn't chart-in-love. That wasn't my life. I ached for the late-night confessionals, the rage diary-writing turned into music, the broken person's desperate poetry that continues to strive.
For me, music wasn’t just music. It was medicine. Mirror. Rebellion and comfort at the same time. It wasn't just noise, it was proof I wasn't alone. It was the audio wallpaper of my cranium, layered, louder, and carrying hidden messages that only the freaks could read.
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