I sit back in my couch every night and listen to the music that plays in my iTunes, making sure to carefully dissect each song into words that string into sentences. Making sense of the double, deep and deeper meanings. What if we managed to reference each line of each verse or the chorus to our pathetic lives? How much more interesting would that make life, maybe. But what if we all took a step back and listened to what each song had to say? I'm not talking about the trashy girl power; we-girls-can-wake-up-from-a-break-up bullshit, or the alter ego fuckery or even the soulless crap that claim themselves to be hump worthy to on a floor trying to pass off as a dance floor. I'm talking about the stuff that makes you go weak in the knees, tingles your pores, gets you wet, I'm talking about the shit that makes you go hard. These songs have to make you go orgasmic because only then will you bother to read between the lines, only then will you be close to crying when you hear that solo, only then will you understand what it takes to write a damn good song, only then will you realize, that the dreamers will always be the dreamers that never fail to keep on dreaming regardless and the realists will always be the realists that try so, so hard, and ever so often fail, to keep it real. Maybe I'm the dreamer. The dreamer who can only dream of people realizing and understanding my thoughts which are more often than not, carefully constructed while completely under the influence. I deserve twenty grams more and a pat on the back.
Now playing: The Jimi Hendrix Experience - The Wind Cries Mary
via FoxyTunes
