(no subject)
I am such a loser. I can watch RENT over and over and over and over and I still sob my friggin heart out. Ridiculous? I think yes. God, I don't even cry this hard about real life. But Angel! And Mimi! And poor angsty Roger who should marry me and Mark who should be my pet awkward kid! I'm sobbing as I write this. Actual sobbing, not little movie sniffles that I do at other movies.
I have no idea why this movie of all movies can affect me so badly. Maybe its the music. Music takes any mood, any slight inclination, and multiplies it tenfold, one hundredfold. Take a bad day, listen to bad day music, and suddenly your distress plunges into melancholy, and you've moved from an inclination to a MOOD. Take a happy day, play some poppy dance music, and the world seems to be dancing with you, the sun seems brighter or the rain warmer and nothing can really upset you. Close your eyes and music is like a tangible feeling, and if you get to just that right spot between sleeping and waking and thinking and utter blankness, music makes you forget you even exist, even if its just for the five minutes that the song plays.
Music is such a strange thing, if you think about it. Its as old as human history; people have been banging on tree stumps and chanting since there were people to chant to. But why? Why does a certain arrangement of notes and a combination of just the right tapping and strumming make us feel a certain way? Why can one song offend our ears, and another, take us to some phantom place between now and forever and take us out of our bodies and our minds and create out of us ethereal beings of pure emotion? I say us because I expect that other people feel this way. There are people, after all, whose entire lives are dedicated to music. But why? I feel it, but I don't understand it. I don't understand how a flute player standing on a beach at sunrise can bring this incredible feeling from inside me that makes me want to cry and smile and stand rooted to the same spot for forever. I don't understand how hearing someone sing a sad song without a microphone can bring me to tears in a crowd full of neon lights and beer fumes. I don't get how a song can make me laugh out loud, make me tap my foot, make me wanna do something crazy and spontaneous and memorable. I don't get it. I feel it, but I don't get it.
I have to go to bed. But I drank cappuccino and I'm trying to prove a point to my sister that the basement isn't hers for the taking just because she fills it with her stench. Ugh. All right. Bed time.
Listening to music first though. Go figure.
I have no idea why this movie of all movies can affect me so badly. Maybe its the music. Music takes any mood, any slight inclination, and multiplies it tenfold, one hundredfold. Take a bad day, listen to bad day music, and suddenly your distress plunges into melancholy, and you've moved from an inclination to a MOOD. Take a happy day, play some poppy dance music, and the world seems to be dancing with you, the sun seems brighter or the rain warmer and nothing can really upset you. Close your eyes and music is like a tangible feeling, and if you get to just that right spot between sleeping and waking and thinking and utter blankness, music makes you forget you even exist, even if its just for the five minutes that the song plays.
Music is such a strange thing, if you think about it. Its as old as human history; people have been banging on tree stumps and chanting since there were people to chant to. But why? Why does a certain arrangement of notes and a combination of just the right tapping and strumming make us feel a certain way? Why can one song offend our ears, and another, take us to some phantom place between now and forever and take us out of our bodies and our minds and create out of us ethereal beings of pure emotion? I say us because I expect that other people feel this way. There are people, after all, whose entire lives are dedicated to music. But why? I feel it, but I don't understand it. I don't understand how a flute player standing on a beach at sunrise can bring this incredible feeling from inside me that makes me want to cry and smile and stand rooted to the same spot for forever. I don't understand how hearing someone sing a sad song without a microphone can bring me to tears in a crowd full of neon lights and beer fumes. I don't get how a song can make me laugh out loud, make me tap my foot, make me wanna do something crazy and spontaneous and memorable. I don't get it. I feel it, but I don't get it.
I have to go to bed. But I drank cappuccino and I'm trying to prove a point to my sister that the basement isn't hers for the taking just because she fills it with her stench. Ugh. All right. Bed time.
Listening to music first though. Go figure.