It is past one in the morning, and the filters of the day have all dissolved. In this quiet, unshielded space, music takes on a heavy, beautiful weight.
For years, this was simply a song I liked, a familiar melody I kept close without ever knowing its true weight...that it was a quiet, grieving letter written to John Lennon.
And now, sitting here in my sleep-deprived stillness, I find myself caught in a strange paradox: I may seem a little off, a little frayed around the edges, yet I suspect this is the closest I ever truly am to myself.
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It is those raw moments that allow us to truly see ourselves if we dare to look. Your post struck a chord as I have been revisiting some of the less listened to music from my youth that evoked a flood of memories, some good some not so much. A reflection of the journey of who I was to who I have become. Not a perfect result, but I am at peace with it and, of course, the journey continues.
No, the journey isn’t perfect. But if we’re lucky, the soundtrack is. And if that means revisiting the bittersweet, the unresolved, the beautifully aching...well, pass the vinyl. I’ll take depth over polish any night of the week.
@4playlist_Sugswt There is pain revisited, but the passage of time and the quality of the sound track soften it. It's more bearable now.