One song and one page at a time.

Celebrating Book Lover's Day today. Reading Rob Sheffield's Love is a Mix-Tape for the fifth time. This is one of my favourites. If you haven't read it already, I suggest you do! 

I haven't made a mix-tape or a playlist for anybody else but me. Nobody has made a mix for me either. I hope someday this does change. Till then, I am going to enjoy this book. 

Picture Courtesy: deviantArt

I was reading a poem by my idol, Wallace Stevens, in which he said, ‘The self is a cloister of remembered sounds.’ My first response was, Yesss! How did he know that? It’s like he’s reading my mind. But my second response was, I need some new sounds to remember. I’ve been stuck in my little isolation chamber for so long I’m spinning through the same sounds I’ve been hearing in my head all my life. If I go on this way, I’ll get old too fast, without remembering any more sounds than I already know now. The only one who remembers any of my sounds is me. How do you turn down the volume on your personal-drama earphones and learn how to listen to other people? How do you jump off one moving train, marked Yourself, and jump onto a train moving in the opposite direction, marked Everybody Else? I loved a Modern Lovers song called, ‘Don’t Let Our Youth Go to Waste,’ and I didn’t want to waste mine

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Now Playing: Center of Attention | Jackson Waters

Every time I look at her these days, a movie flashes before my eyes. A scene where she is young and gorgeous, roaring to face life and the very next moment, the flashback ends- she is in her bed, quiet, thinking, going through physical pain which none of us would understand. I want to help her. I tell her everyday that she is the most beautiful woman I know and that I love her immensely.

I am not sure if she still listens to me. She is my only friend right now. She is my only listener.
And every time I see that look of pain on her face, I die a little inside. I do not care if I live my life alone, I don't want to lose her. I want to be selfish and keep her with me till I face my middle-age crisis.

Truthfully, I am petrified. I might just lose her.


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Twenty Years | Augustana