|
Thursday, April 20, 2006
Tonight, I was listening to Sigur Ros, which I have not done in a while. As expected, I went into "song mode" (essentially, I zone out, block out everyone, and immerse myself completely into the music) while staring out the window. I saw the Hillside complex, the lights of Bethlehem, and the charcoal sky. The wind occasionally sifted through the window screen and gingerly breathed on my face. I singled my focus on a streetlamp as I hummed/tapped/sang along (in semi-madeup Icelandic).
During this time, it seemed as if I were completely alone. Not alone in the emo "I'm so alone" sense of the word. It was an exquisite solitude. However, I yearned for someone to be feeling the same way, so we could be together in this "holy moment" (seriously, watch "Waking Life"). Whenever I attempt to prompt this feeling from people, naturally, it does not work. I know that musical taste is biased, and not everyone likes what I do, but I view this as a valiant gesture however selfish it may be. I want people to experience the same euphoric feeling from the music with me. It seems so natural, yet I do not believe that I have truly found this. I do have time, after all.
As I articulated in my college essay (I believe that Dan is the only one who reads this blog and has read that essay), this feeling is a sort of "sonic spirituality." From what I have gathered in discourse with believers of God, it seems as though this feeling that I get is akin to feeling deeply connected with the "creator." Perhaps, this soulful bond with music is the closest I will ever come to experiencing a simultaneous connection to myself and the rest of existence. However trivial it may seem, it means everything to me. I am not kidding when I say that my CD binder is my most valuable (material) possession.
It is comforting to think that somewhere out there, there was someone else staring out the window in "song mode" at the exact same time as I was. One psychologist (his name escapes me at the moment, Eric something) theorized that what people strive to do in life is escape from freedom. A person can only attain freedom when they are absolutely alone. The escape part comes into play, because really, who wants to be alone?
When I find freedom in music, it is fulfilling to say the least. It is an experience that I would not trade for any other, except one: to dwell in this state with someone else. What could be better than experiencing freedom and togetherness simultaneously? It's the best of both worlds; it is for me the essence of love. Until I find this feeling, or something like it, in life, I do not think that I will ever be fully complete.
Is this human nature dictating to me that I have to find a mate? I don't need a mate just yet. I simply want to find someone who is willing to share with me a moment of musical silence, to tune into a measure of humanity's song and in the process, add a few notes to the masterpiece.
11:51 PM | Jacquie |
0 comments
0 Comments:
|
|
Me in a tree. Circa 1990.
Blog Buddies.
Fight the Boredom!
Ancient Ramblings.
End Credits.
|
|
|
