(no subject)
Okay, now I'm actually gonna write about what I was originally gonna write about, and gonna act slightly editorially, though that's probably spelt wrong aswell. Ok, basically wanted to chat about how music messes me up especially when it connotates memories, like even shit songs have their meanings. You know, the random moments that catch us and how they can't magically imply good music, and who gives a fuck if they do or they don't? I certainly don't. It's all about feeling and memories of those who did or did not mean at least something, i hope.
My fuck, it's been a while since I realised how ineloquent I was; let's hope this will help clear things up:
That was a pretty one, I heard you call
From the unsatisfactory hall to the unsatisfactory room where I
Played record after record, idly...
...Truly, though our element is time,
We are not suited to the long perspectives
Open at each instant of our lives.
They link us to our losses: worse,
They show us what we have as it once was,
Blindingly undiminished, just as though
By acting differently we could have kept it so.
Philip Larkin
My fuck, it's been a while since I realised how ineloquent I was; let's hope this will help clear things up:
That was a pretty one, I heard you call
From the unsatisfactory hall to the unsatisfactory room where I
Played record after record, idly...
...Truly, though our element is time,
We are not suited to the long perspectives
Open at each instant of our lives.
They link us to our losses: worse,
They show us what we have as it once was,
Blindingly undiminished, just as though
By acting differently we could have kept it so.
Philip Larkin