Sunday, March 31, 2013

A Comfortable Affair

We all have our private affairs. The good ones are with people, the mediocre ones are with substances, and the others dwell somewhere with the senses. Mine is with music, but not the kind of high school emo kind where I think music is the only thing that understands me, but kind of. I’ve felt a connection with music since before I can remember, sneaking into my room at the age of 12 to listen to 92 K Rock hoping they would play Chop Suey or something of the sort, so I could lay on my bed and soak in the harmonies. The obsession grew through life and 11 years later I’ve found my career to be solely based around music, and more importantly, vinyls. It’s always been a tough passion to have, coming from a moderate to radical Catholic family and finding myself in the grimiest of spots in the lowest parts of NYC. But I wouldn’t trade it for the world; which is precisely where the issue lies. I think I’ve finally been able to pin point why I can never REALLY find myself in a relationship with other humans or be anywhere for too long. Human relationships take a hell of a lot of back and forth. It takes a decent amount of effort to open up to someone, listen to what they say about your feelings, listen to their feelings, decide on an opinion about what they think, and somewhere find a balance. 

But with music, there is no reciprocation needed. It’s there for you to listen. It doesn’t judge you, it doesn’t judge your motives, your reason for listening, your response or any way that you handle the sounds moving through your ears. It doesn’t look at you funny for crying, it doesn’t try to understand why you’re laughing, and it definitely doesn’t care what your political and religious views are. It’s going to be there for you whether it likes it or not. I can take it anywhere I want to go, and it doesn’t bitch about it. It gladly accompanies you, and you know what, I bet it’s smiling at you while it’s with you. It’s a complete non-judgement zone, when you’re in the mood, you grab it and take it and listen the shit out of it, and when you’re done you turn it off without it saying a word. You don’t have to worry about leaving you, it doesn’t worry about who you’re talking to or what bar you’re attending. It doesn’t care what you wear or who you’re hooking up with, all it knows it that when you need it, it’s there. Never once an explanation needed. 

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