Bloganuary Day 5
One would think that I could sing with the way I enjoy music and I consume a whole lot of it in various forms and in different spaces.
There’s a Marxist line that goes something like, “religion is the opiate of the masses”. Well, music is mine. With the right tunes, my entire view of life can change – my mood switches from negative to positive – I can literally go into a musical trance. I crave music.
I will sit, stand, lay down, levitate and consume music. There’s just something mystical and magical about all components of music. It’s a high, it’s euphoric and orgasmic. I run to music for everything – when I’m happy, when I’m sad, when I’m angry, to inspire, to get motivated – among many other reasons.
Music heals my soul and mends my heart. Not many people get it, but that’s okay. The few who do get it understands where I’m coming from. In the words of the late great Robert Nesta Marley, “hit me with music and feel no pain”. Bob never lied. It’s true. It’s real.
It’s because music has such wonderful powers that I gravitate to it.
So, with that said, it is unfortunate that I am no singer. Not a songbird and probably cannot catch a tune on my own. I’m more of a crow. So, instead of sweet tunes and tones, I belt out ‘caws’.
It’s a darn shame, actually. Why give me the ear, heart and brains for appreciating and loving the components of music but not give me the gift of song?
I call it cruel and unusual punishment.
Though it irks me that I wasn’t in the songbird line when talent wad being issued, I understand that some people were made to sing and others where made to appreciate music without the gift of song. We clearly know where I fall.
That’s how the world works, though. Not everyone can sew but we all can appreciate fashion. Not everyone can write a decent story or shoot a decent video, but we all appreciate a well written story and a properly shot and produced production. In all of that, there are the few gifted ones who actually do what we like to consume.
So, since I can write well enough…perhaps one day I will write lyrics that some songbird will turn into a musical masterpiece along with other musicians.
We all serve a purpose after all. I can’t sing and I have made peace with it. I’ll contribute to my opiate addiction in some other way.
Okay, rant over. The fat lady may sing now – and if that’s how she sings, then that’s how she sings.
Signed with love,
The Suburban Girl JA