This band popped up in an email as a recommendation and I am actually incredibly happy that I followed through and listened to them some. Only their two most recent albums are available on free Spotify, but holy shit they are really good, and they have that weird mix of genres going on with different types of instruments and I'm kind of all over it. Like Stolen Babies, they're described as avant-garde metal, and I'm really kind of digging it. (Speaking, I'm glad I finally downloaded Spotify instead of just using the web player, which was always skipping on me and everything. This will make listening to new music way easier and I am excited about that.)
Finding new music I enjoy (also listening to some Dan Potthast, who was always super fun at the Streetlight shows) makes me wonder. I always liked music, but it was never really a passion of mine...I guess my relatively recent discovery of a certain niche I like and how I'm always listening and how I just want to go to concerts all the time...this is the most passionate I think I've ever been about it, really. I played Saxophone and sang in choir, and I wonder if I had wanted to pursue more of a music path if I didn't always do strictly classical stuff (which is nice, but isn't something I'd want to do forever). Then again, I wonder about that, because - being the perfectionist I am - I always had horrible stage fright if ever given a solo part. I hated improvising in jazz band because I didn't have the same skills as others, and I didn't have the same ear for harmonies as others. I did always wish I was better in music; I was decent at an academic level, but music is about skill and it is wonderful and I was never in that category. And being in AP classes and being so academic-minded, I never had time nor desire to practice enough to get closer to that level. So I dropped it. Only recently have I started to wish that maybe I at least kept up with it on some level.
Music, I feel like, can speak to people. Academia really cannot. Though academia is where I want to stay, and I know it is where I should be, I still wonder about any possible influence I could have in that realm. And for some reason, I want influence.
If I were gone, I would want something to leave behind? Because I am still convinced that without some sort of influence, my memory would be cast aside immediately.
It all kind of comes back to my issue with the ex and what he did. I am - and I know I am reiterating a lot - still convinced that people will leave because he just up an left without warning. So I isolate myself and find that putting effort into my friendships and relationships is too much effort. I am no longer willing to expend the love and to take those risks when I am so convinced that people will eventually leave me. And I am convinced that when they leave, I will be stuck, and they will move on with their lives as if nothing has changed.
Like the ex did. Maybe I have always mischaracterized something when I said that I was so upset about him moving on so quickly. I always framed it as I was hurt because he moved on to other sexual and emotional relationships (though when we spoke we always disagreed on that latter on) so soon after me. And honestly...yeah, that did suck. But it was more than that. Much more. He moved on with his life so quickly.
He was happier so soon after leaving me.
I remained in this rut, a rut I still find myself digging out of. I was stuck in place. Frozen, unable to find a way to move forward. He went on to go to parties and explore being single immediately. Still in school, friends surrounded him, and he had a passion in fighting games which he was able to immerse himself in. He went to formal affairs with a girl on his arm every time, and always looked so fucking happy in his pictures. He was better within the month, and had someone new in his life - albeit not formally - before the semester was even finished.
He moved on with his life so fast; it didn't even seem like a difficult adjustment for him. Life without me just seemed so normal to him.
Meanwhile, life without him for me was horrendous. Truly, I loved him, and could not believe that what I was feeling was completely on one side. Adjusting to a newly single life just seemed impossible. I tried to channel my past self, who would scream at me that this is what I should have expected, and why being single and completely independent of others is always the best thing to do to protect myself. I couldn't imagine being so happy without him, like he was without me.
He mattered to me. I didn't to him.
That, at least, is what constantly played in my head. And it still does, despite what he has said. How can I believe his words now, after knowing all that I do? The lies and the deceit...I cannot believe anything he says now. And really, I do not trust the memories of our relationship. I do not trust the faded echoes of "I love you" and "you're my favourite" and those things. I look at them with suspicion. In a way, I wish they were actual beings, so I could question their authenticity directly, if that makes any sort of sense.
I do not trust that I meant much to him. I do not trust that he ever really loved me the way that he always claimed.
And perhaps that is incredibly cynical of me. No, not perhaps...it is. But after all he did and after all he said and through all the lies and consistency...that is what remains.
Thus, going back to my desire to be influential...I still believe that if I were to leave this world, the reaction he had to leaving me would be the reaction everyone would have. That it would be sad for a bit, but not for very long. After that initial and brief sadness disappeared, it would be better. People would be happier. Much happier. Like the ex was.
Free of me.
And that is scary to me, despite my thinking it to be true. Which is why, the ability to have some sort of musical influence on others has suddenly become a secret (well...I guess not so much now that I have shared it with this blog) desire of mine. But musical talent has forever been outside of my reach, and I have long since accepted that.
Still though. It would be nice.
No comments:
Post a Comment