A quick update: these last days have been quite abnormal for me. The past weeks, actually. Last weekend, I spent some time working on restoring bonds with family members and getting in touch with nature again. It was really good for me, but it came with a price. I got sick. If it's not the thing that has been traveling back and forth, it's the worst flu I've ever had. I won't go into details because what's the point, but just know it shook my entire normality. Still, I made it back. Hello again!
You may judge me wonder why I didn't post anything during my sick days. Well, it might be just me, but when I write, I do it from the most vulnerable spots in me. It takes a lot of energy, which I don't always have. And sometimes, emotions come in such turmoil it's hard to pick the threads apart and organize them into something worthy of being read. As I type this, I want to smack the back of my own head. Why does it care so much if they're not worthy of a read? I actually write for myself, don't I? Maybe. Maybe not. Let's just change the subject or this might turn into a long, pointless rant.
One key element that has been present throughout my life, and last week wasn't an exception, is music. Just by closing my eyes, and even if I don't, I can bring back a flow of memories one after the other, and they always have music associated with them. The most memorable moments of my life (according only to me, of course), have their particular tracks linked. In many ways, music is what has helped me make sense of the nuances of this crazy mess of a world. Which has good things, no matter how few they might seem.
This post responds to yet another amazing weekly topic, proposed by Galen for the Weekend Engagement. You can find the original post, containing all the prompts and rules, here. If you're reading this and haven't participated, kindly allow me to encourage you to do so. I promise you'll have fun! And if you've already written your entry, be sure to check other authors' take on the topic. There are a lot of interesting views out there.
When I can't talk about something, I sing (badly, yeah, but who cares). When I can't write, I listen to music. It's as simple as that, and I could actually just end the post here and link some of my favorite songs for the few that will read it. But... The memories that play in the back of my head deserve a little better. Even if it is just writing them down to be read in a few months or years.
I tried to pick just a song that encompassed what music means for me, and even though it might appear like a weird choice, or not the most suitable, it is what it is. And it was what it was for me. Back then, when I first started discovering my music taste, I was obsessed with my Sony Discman, and I kept looking for new rad tracks to add to my CDs. I was also very interested in self-learning English, and music was a nice resource for that.
My high school uniform consisted of a blouse and a skirt, and I was lucky enough to be able to fit the Discman into the side pocket. I carried that precious thing everywhere; the earphones hidden under my curly hair, the songs blasting non-stop. My favorite teacher, the English one, my dear Omar, always knew I wasn't listening to his class. He would glance at me reproachfully (not really) and I would stare back with a cheeky smile.
I discovered Queen at 13 years old, going through my mom's vinyl collection. To explain what I felt when I first heard Bohemian Rhapsody... It just clicked with me. Six minutes of close-to-perfection trance, and I would just break the replay button, trying to grasp every little new detail that came with each new moment. If we'd go out, the Discman would always be with me, this song on repeat. I can still picture my concentration frown, picking on the pronunciation and meaning of the words, the rollercoaster of emotions, the notes, the harmonies, and most of all, the plaint that the song holds. It spoke to me, deeply.
My family knew better than to interrupt the flow of the song, and they would just wait until I plugged the earphones out. Most of the time. Almost never. Despite people insisting on talking to me while Freddie and I cried inside in two totally different eras and spaces, my mind would just continue to play the song. I still can do that, play Bohemian Rhapsody in my head, top to bottom, front and backward. I memorized it. There are probably other songs that mean more to me or are more closely related to my life, but this one has a very special place in my heart.
I used to have an insanely strong crush on Freddie Mercury, even though he was already dead when I was born. His voice soothed me, gave me strength, reminded me to keep shining and smiling, to act like the royalty I can be: kindly, gracefully, but always firmly. I still go to Queen's music to cheer myself up and dance, as we all should do from time to time. To not lose the habit. As I finish writing this post, I'm listening to this and other Queen songs, among my favorites as well. I have to admit I was not in the best state of mind when I started typing and that I needed a little spark to surf this tide successfully. And I am doing it. For me.
Quoting His Royal Highness...
The show must go on.
Source of the image:
📷 by James Sutton
I'd like to thank you for reading this. I hope my words resonated with you in some way. If they did, or even if they didn't, I'd like to further connect with you, so I invite you to drop a comment and I'll answer it as soon as I can.
