Tonight I was on the train listening to my new favorite song, "Mouthwash", by Kate Nash. I am so totally in love with that song. I can't get enough of it. I want to devour it like a box of girl scout cookies, rub it all over me like Origins Ginger Souffle body cream, soak in it like a fabulously warm bubbly lavender bath. Mmm mmmm good.
So as I'm having an orgasm over this song, I got this (somewhat vacuous, silly, but worth sharing?) notion:
See, it's like this: Love is like a song.
You know that feeling you get when you hear a new song and you just know you're going to adore it? You know what I'm talking about. The song just stands out from all the others. It makes your heart pump more blood per second, you can't help but smile, you actually consider jogging to it, you just want to belt it out when it comes on in the car and pretend you're on American Idol, and you wanna move your body to it (or in my case, bob your head like the 35 year old ass that you are, doing a dance similar to that of Dorothy prancing down the yellow brick road on the sidewalks of Queens, NY) with your headphones on.
That song. It makes you feel hopeful. When you are listening to it, the world rights itself, instead of looking somewhat cock-eyed, like it usually does. The song makes you feel pretty.
So, you listen to it. Again, and again and again and again. You suck it up like sugar through a straw. (Or you smoke it like crack in a pipe; who am I to assume your preferences?)
You learn all the words. Every beat, every chorus, every inflection in the singer's voice. You know it by heart. It's crawled up inside you and is living there, curled and cozy. Comfortable.
But, over time, the feeling starts to fade. You know it does. It slips through your fingers.
It's still a great song. Of course it is. But you spin the ipod dial when it comes up on "shuffle". I'll come back to it later, you think. I wanna check out that other shit I downloaded last night. You do come back to it. Of course you do. But it's just not the same. You simply can't capture that thrill you had when it was new. It's just gone.
You mourn the loss of it.
You feel like maybe you'll never again hear a song that good. Nothing that clicks into you that way, splashes all over you, like juice exploding from a succulent first bite. Everything you hear sounds the same. Ugly. Empty.
Until. Not long after,
You hear another song that gets inside you. Deep inside you.
And it starts all over again.
The Blizzard of '17
5 days ago