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The other day I was listening to music, and I saw an album I hadn't… - 296.32 [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]

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[Apr. 25th, 2013|04:01 pm]
The other day I was listening to music, and I saw an album I hadn't listened to in a long time. Secret Samhadi, by Live. Now, Live has a special place in my life. I liked them when I was 15. I guess that's a magic age. Because music doesn't make me feel like it used to. Something about a band you like when you're 15 stays with you forever. Secret Samhadi was important, but slightly less so compared to Throwing Copper. So I re-bought it. I listened to it on the subway into school today. Talk about melancholic nostalgia.

Why doesn't anything make me feel like that anymore? Why has music drifted from my life?

I never felt like I liked anything authentically. So I got into Nirvana approximately five years after Kurt Cobain died, and subsequently I never felt like I was a "real" fan. I could never let myself really go with the music, because I wasn't being true, or honest, or some other dumb bullshit. By this kind of rule, the only albums I've ever liked authentically are Throwing Copper, Secret Samhadi, Pearl Jam's Ten, a handful of R.E.M. albums, and maybe some Beatles. Again, because I was totally fucking flipped out over them when I was 15. I also listened to Whitney Houston at that time, but I don't feel the same way about her. I wonder why?

Rock just hits the spot in my aesthetic soul, I guess.

I'm on the verge of tears here, lamenting my emotionless void of a life. Live feels like possibility to me---years in front of me to connect deeply with others, experience everything with a tinge of excitement behind it, meaning was there to be had. Earnest, thrilling meaning. And it's gone.

But by the same token, I fucking hated being a teenager. I didn't fit in, I felt like a loser. Most of my memories are bad ones filled with embarrassment and awkwardness. To be perfectly fucking honest, that's all of my memories. What am I doing so incorrectly with my life? Probably remembering only the most negative things. I guess that's the way our brains work.

That isn't all, though. Life, of course, isn't anything like I thought it would be. There is no deep connection. There is no closeness, no mutual excitement, no creating and doing and drinking it all fucking in. Just pattern and habit and TV.