It’s Sunday, and I’m sitting at Osmium – apopular coffee shop in Lakeview. On Saturdays, and especially Sundays, it’s packed. Many strangers sit together in large tables and bar stools. Who are these people sitting next to me? What are their stories? What are they struggling with right now? I wish I could talk to them without weird glances. I wish I could learn more about them. But alas, society, especially Chicagoians, do not welcome this.

Luckily, music has the power to share all of this via SoundCloud, Spotify, or any streaming site. Press play, and lives will be shared via lyrics, melodies, vocals, and instrumentation. These artists welcome comments and questions on Twitter – it can often inspire them to continue pursing a music career. If a listener relates to a rhyme, song, or even a full project – a connection is made. It may be online, but it’s still a beautiful thing. Often enough, someone from Australia may hear a song or lyric from an artist in Oregon, and feel less alone. It may just get them out of bed. It may just get them to school. And it may just save their life.

I’ve spoken to hundreds of artists who started making music to express personal pain and suffering. Their diary is written aloud in a recording booth. They have the ability to let loose their demons with a pen and a pad, record, and upload it to SoundCloud. Unfortunately their music can get lost in the depths of the streaming site, as the number of users are at an all time high.

I bring attention to this because support is invaluable to artists. Giving positive feedback, sharing similar experiences… hell even pressing play spreads love and joy among hundreds of people. Spread love, not war.