Face the music (not)

Brand New Colony-The Postal Service

There are great songs out there, like this one, that I know sounds sweet and wonderful, but because of personal tragedies I associate with them, I still cannot bring myself to listen. The irony is that I would not have discovered how wonderful this song is if it weren’t for that tragedy. But even though I refuse to listen, I still have this song on my playlist, partly because I don’t like having incomplete albums, and largely because I hope that the day will come when I will finally be able to listen to the song with a fresh perspective.

So one perfect day, without realizing it, I will be able to listen to the intro of this song (which if memory serves sounds quite nice) devoid of any degree of panic which will prompt me to hit the next button almost immediately. Notice that the previous sentence is quite long and awkward, which is a small illustration of how my mind works whenever I hear the opening of this song. The feeling can best be described as “rattled”, slightly similar to being fearful, but of a lower degree.

There was one instance when I thought I was ready to listen to the song, a year ago, I think, but right after the first chorus my heart was literally pounding, I felt the blood rush to my ears, and I remember feeling a bit out of breath. It was almost traumatic. The moment the song stopped, I felt relieved.

One day I will be brave enough to listen to this song up until the very last note. Maybe I’ll even put it on repeat to boot.

I listen to this song while running, and each time it plays I get a weird feeling which makes me run a bit faster. As a writing exercise, I put it on and tried to come up with a list of sorts, like a word association game. This is what I came up with, which I imagine should be read along with the instrumental.

INTRO-The xx

Start walking. Walk slowly

at first.

Note your pace,

mind your heart beat,

check your time.

When you’re ready,

walk faster

and faster

and faster and faster

and faster

and faster until

you find yourself running.

Let yourself go,

follow the road

faithfully

even if you think

it leads to nowhere

or to a dead-end.

Breathe slowly,

breathe deeply,

sweat deeply,

see everything,

hear every sound,

feel your feet

pounding on the ground,

run until the road turns

at a curve on the right

that signals the end

of your solitary race.

A door should

mark the finish line.

Cool down,

calm down, dust yourself

off. Climb the steps

towards the door.

Knock

lightly, knock bravely.

Knock harder.

Keep knocking

even if there’s no answer.

Knock until you can’t.

Turn away, turn back again,

knock again, turn away again,

Wait a while.

Walk away

only if

you haven’t tried

to knock again

one last time.

Sweet Disposition (The Temper Trap)

When a glorious experience is replicated, that memory of the First Time seems farther away in time and space. First conversation, first date, first kiss. If only time can be suspended, like a train ride that never reaches its destination, or a song forever on loop, maybe people will be happier.

This was what Tom was thinking while watching a sappy romantic comedy with his girlfriend of seven fucking long years. He thought, sadly, about all the First Times they’ve had, and how they seem to have exhausted all the glorious moments within their means. Yesterday he asked a friend who was in the same situation: “Do you ever think of maybe breaking up with your boyfriend?” This friend has been in that relationship for five fucking long years. His friend’s replied: “Only all the time.”

They’ve never been to India, Tom and his girlfriend. That’s a potentially magical First Time moment, but only if Tom could get time off from work (he was a call center agent). They’ve never been to many places within the country, Tom thought, maybe they could go on a weekend getaway. Or they could try cheaper alternatives, like eat at a new restaurant or watch a new movie. Tom is certain, at least that there will always be new movies.

But movie tickets aren’t gettting any cheaper. And watching a movie isn’t exactly a moment suspended in time.

On the movie screen, Tom watched as the male lead was making a mad dash to the airport where, of course, the female lead was just about to board a plane to a faraway land. The male lead caught the love of his life just in time to declare his undying love, which was followed by the first kiss. Up music, applause and awwwwwww from emphatic onlookers. End credits.

The lights turn on. Tom, out of habit, reached for his girlfriend’s (of seven years) left hand before getting up. While walking out of the cinema, Tom asked: “So, honey, where do we eat?”