| Food, Fun, Fucking, Family and Faith | ||||
| The songs of my love life are ever playing on this staticy, little black box with bad volume everyday. It ain't pretty, but it's all I got for music and I've had it for a long time. Moslty as you may have guessed, the music is crappy pop, with catchy lyrics, and repetitivness about love or cars or school with little experimentation in sound or composition. I run into a lot of Romeo's that are well willing to love every song and to enjoy them. I tend to believe that there's a favorite song that perfectly defines my life. As you may of guessed once in a while a really good tune comes on that makes you dance, and makes you hum. When I hear the music, I enjoy myself. When I hear the lyrics, it causes me to think about what the singer is talking about, And then I sit back and take it all in. And you find the meaning. It's these songs that I work into my life. It's these rythms that map out the beat of my heart and the intervals between steps. Their lyrics find their way into what I say. And mostly I either pull everything out of the song I'm gonna, I memorize the breaks and beats and bricks, or in other rather recent frequent situations I figure out what the vocalist and players really had intended. But As you may have guessed, sometimes I end up singing these songs in the shower, and talking about them with my friends and remember the first time I ever heard them on my litlle black box. I love it so much when I'm sitting there working very hard at my job, and through the Britney Spearrs, Wham and Celine Dionne, and the mindless commercialization an old beautiful tune that really is timeless gets played and I get to listen and dance and feel the beat like I use to. This is of course when I remember why I liked the damn song in the first place. And of course when I kick myself because I didn't by the record. (As you may have guessed) |
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