“Baby I have been here before
I know this room, I’ve walked this floor
I used to live alone before I knew you.
I’ve seen your flag on the marble arch
Love is not a victory march
It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah”
-Leonard Cohen, Halleluja”
I have a strange relationship with music. It’s infectious to me, almost controlling. I don’t purposely let it get to me like that, it just does. I can’t help it. There is something about certain songs that either triggers and emotional response or a serious memory. It’s so engrained in me that the opposite is also true. The emotions, the memories, they also trigger the song to pop up inside my head.
It’s been useful to me in the past because I can use music to elevate my mood, but I find these days that it spends much more time swinging the other way. My mood dictates the music I am craving. I think it’s pretty obvious from the last few weeks of the blog that my mood hasn’t exactly been the highest and most cheerful, either. I’ve been fighting it by listening to some seriously upbeat music that is impossible to be sad to.
You know, No More Kings, Lonely Islands, MC Lars, you know, people that rock in a way that is supposed to leave you either uplifted or broken from shear laughter. In times past, this would have been enough. It’s a distraction from what’s bothering me.
But it isn’t so much that any one thing is bothering me. It’s more like my soul is wounded and angry and needing me to desperately change something about how I simply look at the world, otherwise it’s going to keep on kicking me in the heart until I can’t keep going.
It’s probably got a point.
-Greenday, Boulevard of Broken Dreams
I think I might need to start over. I might need to head back to the beginning of all of this and figure out exactly what it is I’m looking for in life. I might need to take a journey to the beginning of me and really figure out why I’m so damned unhappy all of the time.
Maybe I need a blank slate.
I’ve been thinking about it for a while. Just burning away all of the memories of the past.
What do you guys thing, readers?
Do I cut my losses and float away, or is it better to build up the history like a ladder and climb to the farthest reaches of the sky?
I don’t really know, to be honest.
What I do know is that there is an answer out there somewhere, and I will find it.
I will make it my bitch.
I will force it to make me waffles.