I’m not sure how many of you have noticed, but a lot of the titles to my blog posts are from the lyrics of the songs I happen to be listening to at the time. Don’t read too much in to the one on this post. It’s just funny that, in my tendency to listen to music late at night, my song choices tend to have lyrics that mirror my mood or what I’ve been thinking about during the day.
Perhaps I can abandon writing altogether, and just blog the last five or six songs that I queued up on my MP3 playlist. Eh? Okay, maybe not, but it would be a pretty representative sample of my state of mind.
Anyway, I’ve been thinking a lot about music the last couple of days. Not for any particular reason, other than I wanted to consciously notice each song that I have a memory, feeling, person, or otherwise attached to it. So for each song that I heard during the day, whether it be one that I chose or one that came on randomly during my day, I try to decide what sort of attachment I have to it.
Good. God.
When I don’t think about it, it’s not that big a deal. But when I purposely try and remember or feel each attached emotion and memory to each song I hear… well, all bets are off. I was listening to one of my favorite Internet radio stations the other night, and I swear I was almost an emotional wreck by the end.
Music has the ability to conjure up some of the oldest and most buried memories and feelings; almost as effectively as a familiar scent. It was difficult not to get wrapped up in the turmoil and anger or sadness attached to some of them.
One particular song, called “Breathe (2 Am)” by Anna Nalick, brought back a flood of memories from a particularly hard year of my life. It was also impossible for me to ignore the fact that a female friend, a girlfriend (at the time), and a co-worker, all said there was a particular lyric in the song that reminded them of me.
Here it is, for reference (and before I forget about it, again):
May he turned 21 on the base at Fort Bliss
“Just a day” he said down to the flask in his fist,
“Ain’t been sober, since maybe October of last year.”
Here in town you can tell he’s been down for a while,
But, my God, it’s so beautiful when the boy smiles,
Wanna hold him. Maybe I’ll just sing about it.
I don’t know, maybe I’ve always been a headcase. I’d like to think I’m fairly well balanced and, dare I say, almost “normal” in most respects (and by “normal”, I mean that I can get away with being in society without going noticed too much). But for years people had the perception that I was always trying to run from my troubles, whether it be via alcohol or by literally running away. And in truth, I was.
Those were some dark and depressing times in my life, and I suppose those that loved me and cared about me saw all the ways that I was stumbling in the darkness… made pretty obvious by the above lyric, and how many people thought of me when they heard it, tells me that I’ve come a long way since then.
I’m rather happy with who I’ve become in the last few years, even if it hasn’t been without bumps and scrapes along the way. There is no journey that is worth taking, whether it be mentally, physically, or spiritually, unless it is damn near impossible.