You’re not listening to me

Because I like music like nothing else, I’m going to start writing about it. I remember during my first teenage years, I daydreamed about writing music and about music. And even though I was naturally good at it, I never pursued that dream. Hence, I became a listener. tumblr_nekwl9E60U1qfdwsio1_500

I remember Napster. Oh how reluctant I was  to download a p2p sharing program. The concept escaped me, and it marvelled me. I defiantly decided to give it a try and take all risks. Back then, my biggest worry was that my mom would find out I watched porn. ahem. Because I didn’t. Haha.

Music is the reason why I discovered I was good at languages: the search and thirst for different kinds of genres and more music secretly fuelled me, and made me learn a new language in pure bliss.

I think it’s fair. I needed it. I craved many things then: love, self-esteem and, yes, another city. But music fed me. It loved me back even more than I was able to understand. It was great: in my dreams I hugged men like Thom Yorke. So I did not only listen, but also became genuinely interested in learning about the people behind such exquisite compositions: I needed to know who they were. Where they lived. What they looked like. Internet was the medium. Napster was the answer -, and because most of this information was more readily available in English, I unknowingly got myself in a pretty intensive English course.

Today I am happy to see that connection: music and English. The two things that have shaped my destiny in more ways than anything else has.

To sum up this mariconería mía: I learned to speak, I learned to connect with myself. I love music because from our human condition, music is the closest we get to being infinite, one with the universe.

To honour the music I’ve been given so far, my most felt words. Siempre.

Two really, really good songs:

Sóley – Dance                              and                          Angel Olsen – Forgiven/Forgotten

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