Today, I have felt before I thought.
It's incredible how the mind subconsciously makes connections that somehow bypass the brain and settle somewhere in the lower torso region. A yawning, aching sense that makes one long for what there used to be; a gap that is missing something which can't be found; a feeling that can't quite be placed or rationalised. I enjoy listening to music; I can appreciate music; I am affected by music, but some albums really hit me, hard, sometimes unexpectedly.
There are particular songs that these days, I can't listen to it without feeling like I'm being repeatedly punched in the chest while similtaneously being kneed in the stomach. It's a shame, especially if it's actually a really good album, unfortunately permanently branded with the memories of that time in my life. It sounds stupid and overemphatic, and it's only a few tunes that do have an real physical effect in that sense, brought on soley by the conditional reflex effect of the connection to the album, rather than simply an enhancement of what I may be feeling at that moment in time. Indeed, the songs themselves may be cheery, but even if I'm in a good mood, to listen to the music will inevitably and uncontrollably make me feel really uncomfortable.
Nostalgic pains of this kind often pass with time or if I turn off the stereo. Just like any kind of low feeling, it ebbs and flows, comes and goes. But right now, allowing myself to become absorbed in the melancholy melodies, fateful decisions and wistful reminiscence, it hurts. It really hurts.
It's incredible how the mind subconsciously makes connections that somehow bypass the brain and settle somewhere in the lower torso region. A yawning, aching sense that makes one long for what there used to be; a gap that is missing something which can't be found; a feeling that can't quite be placed or rationalised. I enjoy listening to music; I can appreciate music; I am affected by music, but some albums really hit me, hard, sometimes unexpectedly.
There are particular songs that these days, I can't listen to it without feeling like I'm being repeatedly punched in the chest while similtaneously being kneed in the stomach. It's a shame, especially if it's actually a really good album, unfortunately permanently branded with the memories of that time in my life. It sounds stupid and overemphatic, and it's only a few tunes that do have an real physical effect in that sense, brought on soley by the conditional reflex effect of the connection to the album, rather than simply an enhancement of what I may be feeling at that moment in time. Indeed, the songs themselves may be cheery, but even if I'm in a good mood, to listen to the music will inevitably and uncontrollably make me feel really uncomfortable.
Nostalgic pains of this kind often pass with time or if I turn off the stereo. Just like any kind of low feeling, it ebbs and flows, comes and goes. But right now, allowing myself to become absorbed in the melancholy melodies, fateful decisions and wistful reminiscence, it hurts. It really hurts.
On the jukebox: The Feeling ~ Strange
Yup, know what you mean.
ReplyDeleteTheres a certain song that I used as a sort of mental crutch for a short while. A way of telling myself that everything would be alright in the end. But it wasn't, and it kinda felt that the song "let me down" somehow, and I felt exactly the same as you just described when it played.
I think I'm mostly past that now though. Although I still get a horrible knot in my stomach when I listen to the album its on and its the next song to play...
it's after 4am and I just finished watching '10 Things I Hate About You.'
ReplyDeleteI'm gonna miss that man. while I still argue that 'I'm Not There' was his most powerful preformance, there is definitely a place for '10 things.' maybe they're tied. he was very different in the movies, obv pretty young in 10 things, and more mature/dark in I'm not there.