So the other day one of my friends told me that I seem "different" to him lately. When I asked him what he meant, he told me that I don't have the same views towards women as I used to.
I have to say that my friend is right. In terms of seeking out a relationship, I have changed a lot. I'll stop being vague and get into some detail.
About a few months ago I realized that I wasn't really interested in pursuing a relationship at the moment. I don't think this is out of the ordinary for most people, I just don't have the time to commit to a relationship. Now if that were all to the story, it wouldn't be very interesting. However, there is one aspect to my current views that I think deserves investigation: time isn't the only issue, I also find myself very dissatisfied with women when it comes to relationships at the moment.
What could have caused me to become so dissatisfied?
Of the people who know me, they know that I used to always desire relationships. I always ran "what if?" scenarios through my head with different people. However, nowadays I've pretty much been saying "no thanks" to everyone. I have only had one significant relationship in my life, and it ended on a bitter note. Could that have left a bad taste in my mouth? Quite possibly. However, it has been quite some time since that relationship ended, and I feel fully recovered. I accept what happened as part of my history, and I moved on with no regrets. Have I experimented with other women since that breakup? Yup, did that too. Could those relationships have affected me? Well, I don't think so. Although I did experiment with other women, I never reached the relationship level with them. I always became dissatisfied right before it got to that point.
So I think we found where the issue resides. I don't believe it has to do with my ex since I only found these feelings of dissatisfaction after being with other people for a little while. I think the problem has to do with the people I have been meeting recently (I am not faulting these people, I think the problem solely lies in my perceptions).
So let's draw up some details:
What exactly do I feel when I am with these people?
Good question. Well at first when we hang out, I think to the short term future, I try to vision myself with this person. If I do see some kind of compatibility, I tend to spend a little more time with this person to get to know them better. This is where things usually go awry. Shortly after spending a bit more time with these people is when I find myself becoming dissatisfied and uninterested.
But why?
Also a good question. I did some thinking and I realized that I am uninterested in people who try to impress me. Is that strange? I still find people and their attributes impressive, but when someone goes out of their way to impress me, I am uninterested. I guess this stems from how I don't like to be made to feel like I have to impress other people. Why can't everyone just mingle and get to know each other? Why do I have to go out of my way to impress you? Why can't we just get to know each other on equal terms and then make our decisions on one another? I know this is a futile argument, but sometimes I wish things would work out a little differently in the world, ya know?
So as I was saying, I don't like it when someone tries to impress me. I feel like when someone does this, they aren't showing me their true self, which is actually what I want to see. It's like researchers observing animals in their natural habitats; they want to observe how the animals act normally, without any outside influences. I feel the same way. When I hang out with someone, I want to know who they really are. If someone is trying to impress me, I have no way of knowing if this is how that person normally acts. Most of the time it seems very evident to me that these people wouldn't normally act in the way that they are. In other words, I am the outside influence.
I have to say that I could be wrong. My perceptions on this whole subject could be mangled. For all I know, this is how these people normally act, and I could be projecting this idea that they aren't who they say they are. This however, still doesn't change the fact that I don't like it when people try to impress me, and I don't think this will ever change about me. It's one of those personal tastes that just tends to stick with you. Just like how I still love Winnie the Pooh. I will never get tired of seeing that plump little bear getting himself stuck in rabbit's holes.
Oh Pooh bear, you never cease to make me laugh.
Wait, what were we talking about?
Oh right, dissatisfaction. So another thing that I noticed is that recently I do not feel like putting forth effort in relationships. I won't lie, this is pretty selfish, and I don't like this about myself. I mentioned above that I don't feel like my past relationship has anything to do with my current views. I do feel however, that my former relationship does play a role in this, so I'll have to rescind my previous statement.
In my past relationship, I was always very giving. I sacrificed a lot for the sake of keeping that companionship on its feet, and I think my current feelings can be derived from this. I won't get into details, and I could very well be wrong, but I feel like I put more into that relationship than what my partner did. That's fine if they didn't do as much as I did, I don't care about that. What I think happened is that now I'm just too tired to keep it up. I put forth so much effort in that relationship that I'm just burnt out. I'm not looking for serious romance, I'm looking for companionship. My ideal relationship right now would be with a person who doesn't feel like they have to put forth any effort in making the relationship work. It would all be about simple companionship, a team effort. We would collaborate when deciding what to do. No obligations set in stone or anything.
On a side note, I think it's kind of interesting that sex is a non-issue for me right now. There are more important things to a relationship for me, and sex isn't even in my top 3 reasons. Strange? You decide.
I hope I'm not making my point foggy. I'm not saying that I don't want to put forth any effort into a relationship. In all honesty it might not be possible to have a relationship without either party adding anything to the mix. What I'm saying is instead of surprising one another with gifts and whatnot to be romantic, I find it more appealing for each party in a relationship to work together to come up with fun things to do. No surprises, just open collaboration.
I'll give two examples with valentines day:
1) Henry decides to surprise his girlfriend, Beth on valentines with flowers and then take her out to go ice skating.
2) Henry and Beth both decide to go ice skating and then out to dinner to their favorite restaurant on valentines as a fun way to spend the day.
Do you see the difference? I prefer the second example. Sure, surprises are unexpected and nice, but it is more appealing to me when both parties are open with each other and work together to find fun things to do. At the moment I guess I'm just too exhausted to keep on trying to surprise people. Being romantic isn't without its benefits, but it's stressful. If you try to be romantic all the time like I used to be, then you run out of energy (or at least I did). I don't know about you, but I like for relationships to be more relaxing than they are stressful, and I find teamwork to be more relaxing than being romantic. When you think about it, why do friendships last longer than relationships? There's probably a ton of different answers to that question - but have you ever thought that the reason might be because in a friendship, each friend collaborates with the other to find things to do rather than always surprising one another?
So back to what we were discussing before, for each of the people I've been with recently, I always got the vibe that romance was desired. I suppose that tended to make me shy away. Yea sure, I can be romantic, but if that's the initial desire I sensed from the person, I don't think that's a good thing.
So after attempting relationships with a few people, and having each situation end the same way, I generalized my views to the broader scope of women and decided that I am not interested in pursuing anyone at the moment. I realize that I shouldn't generalize these views on everyone, that isn't fair because not everyone is the same. I think it's just that finding the ideal person for me might require loads of effort that I don't presently have the time to commit. That's probably why I find myself disinterested in women at the moment.
There is however, one exception. The other day I realized that I really miss one of my friends (and I'm not naming names for those of you who know me). What I find strange is that when I try to envision compatibility with this person, I can't come up with anything. So then am I only missing them as a friend? I don't really know, but it is perplexing to me. Hmm...
So, I have a question for all of you,
Is romance necessary to maintain a relationship?
I'm not asking if romance makes you happy or not, I'm asking if you could be happy in a relationship without any romance. Think about it. Your answer will most definitely draw on your individual ideas of romance, but I'd like to hear what you think.
Until next time, stay frosty
14 April 2009
07 April 2009
Ghosts of York
If you could relive any day of your life, what day would you choose? Can you think back and pinpoint the greatest day of your life? I have a feeling that many of you might not have an answer to that. I also feel that for those of you who do know what day they'd like to relive, many of you would choose a day from their childhoods. I know that I can actually get more specific than a day; I can vividly remember the single greatest moment of my life. Is that crazy or what? Why was that moment so significant to me? What is it about my childhood that I now cherish?
Okay, I got my feet wet, are you guys ready? Good.
I guess I should start by telling you what the best moment of my life was. I have a feeling this is going to sound generic, but bear with me. It was a Christmas morning back when I was about... 9 or 10 (I have a bad sense of time so I'm really not sure). It was back when my parents were still together in our big house. My brother and I had just woken up, and we ran downstairs to our living room in our pajamas. I remember that as soon as we reached the entrance to the room, we both just stood still - awe struck. I can't even come up with words to describe the emotions I felt. What did we see? No, it wasn't a tree with ornaments intricately placed about it with a mountain of presents underneath. I actually don't even remember a tree or presents at all. What I saw was our living room in perfect order, an absolutely breathtaking view of a fresh coat of fluffy snow outside, and the early morning sun lighting up everything perfectly. The scene simply stunned me. If I had to describe the sight with one word, it would be "glory"
Have you ever felt an emotion that you simply can't put into words? It's probably synonymous with the feeling you get when you can't believe it's not butter (ha, just kidding). In all seriousness though, when I think back to that day, I can't put my finger on any emotion I know. Reminiscing doesn't fill me with happiness and it doesn't make me depressed that it's over. I simply don't know of any emotion that could describe how that moment felt to me.
So moving past the emotions, what made that moment so significant? Why is it that I can remember it so vividly? Why is it that I can look you square in the face (figuratively speaking) and tell you that that moment was the greatest in all my life?
Lets approach it from some different angles, shall we?
If you read my first post, you'd know that I cherished the typical cohesive family unit. Maybe that's why that moment was so important - it was symbolic of our happy family while it was still together. Well, there's two problems with that theory. The first is that my parents weren't there with me and my brother; they were still asleep. I can't remember any faces or bodies actually, not even my brother's, I only remember the scene. Now I understand that you could argue that I cherish this memory because it could still symbolize a happy family even without people being present. But if you read all of my first post, you'd remember that my views have changed, and I don't desire the same cohesive family unit that I used to. Remember that? I'm all about independence and stuff now. So then why does this memory stand out so much? Do I subconsciously still desire the typical family dreams? Hmm, my past trying to remind me of who I am... very intriguing.
So let's try another angle. What if I cherish that memory because it is the prime example of a time that I was at a loss for words. I mentioned above that I couldn't pinpoint the emotion that I felt, so maybe that's what I actually cherish? Well, that could be, but once again I doubt it. When I think of the memory, the image comes to mind before the emotion. So I think it's more of an experience thing. Don't get me wrong, the emotion is very important, but in this case I just don't feel like it's the primary attribute to the memory. Kind of puts us in a pickle, doesn't it?
Well hang on, I'm not done yet. I have another memory that I wage on a similar level. It may not be the greatest moment of my life, but it's up there. Maybe we can use it to help the situation.
Okay, so it's not really a single memory, its more of a single experience (can you figure out what led me in this direction? hehe). This example is also a childhood memory. It's my memory of playing The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time, for the first time. I mean just wow. Every time I think back to when me and my brother were playing this game, I remember it being larger than life. To me, that game had no scope, no barriers, no limitations. It was infinite. I can't tell you how epic that game was to me. If I got to choose a time in my life that I wanted to relive, this experience is #2. By today's standards, I feel like I'm jaded. Yea, I still play games, but I don't derive nearly as much enjoyment from them as I used to. Everything was so much more magical when I was a child. I really wish I could get as happy as I used to - or maybe my memories are just amplified?
Let's get into the thick of my memory. So, what are some reasons that it would be so significant? Did the game come to define the person I am today? Well, I wouldn't go that far. It did teach me the value of courage, but I don't really identify myself with the game. It was just an insurmountable experience in my book. So then maybe, it's one of the greatest stories I've ever experienced, and that's why I value it so much. That doesn't seem to work either considering that I don't think the story to the game was all that amazing when compared to some of the other games/movies/shows/books I've played/watched/read over the years. But even so, this game in particular stands out to all others. Maybe it sparked my imagination in a way that no other game did? I can't remember ever imitating the game like I used to imitate other games. I never played "pretend" with this game (maybe because I didn't want to tarnish it? An interesting thought).
Hang on, I'm not getting anywhere. I need a different angle. What did this memory have in common with my first memory? Well, they both made me feel an emotion that I find hard to put into words.
Okay, so maybe I wasn't so far off in the first place.
I remember talking to my brother a few months ago about our experience with Zelda, and I remember getting frustrated at not being able to relive that memory. Maybe I'm scared that I'll never feel that way again in my life?
OR MAYBE
I'm scared that I'll never be aware of the emotion when I'm feeling it. Now that I think about it, when I think of these memories, the indescribable emotion is only here in the present, not in the past. In the past all I felt was happiness, I'm pretty sure of that now. Was I not aware of how happy I was? Am I frustrated because I took those feelings for granted at the time? Why am I worried about not being aware the next time I feel that level of happiness?
I guess it just feels like a missed opportunity. Do you know that feeling you get when you name who the final four are going to be in March Madness, yet you don't fill out a bracket and you end up being completely right? That's a missed opportunity. It sucks doesn't it? But why am I so worried, it's not like I don't reap the benefits of the happiness at the time, it's still a positive emotion. Maybe it's because I know that it won't last...
I think I just got a little depressed. But why though? Is there a finite amount of happiness that an individual can feel? Do we even want to be happy all the time? Is this emotion I feel really fear?
I don't know which way to go on this. Am I really afraid that I am not aware of happiness when it befalls me? I don't know why thinking of these old memories would make me afraid... but when you take into account that I would choose to relive these memories over all others, it makes more sense. My desire to relive is like my safety net. If I will never again experience or be aware of that magnitude of happiness again, I have memories to fall back on. Then that means that I am afraid of the future. Is that really true?
I don't like being afraid.
I told you that The Legend of Zelda taught me the value of courage. It taught me not to be afraid. I'm not going to let the future scare me. It may be full of uncertainty, but with courage I can make it through.
I just changed my decision. If I am given the chance to relive any memory of my life... I will decline the offer. I don't need a safety net if I march forward gallantly and unafraid. I've heard the phrase, "our past defines us" and I used to agree. I'm going to adopt a new outlook from now on. For me, the way I approach the future shall define me. My past is sacred, it has given me the tools to make the decisions that I make today, but it does not define who I am today. I have changed so much from my past, I'm not nearly the same person anymore. Sure, my past is my history, but it does not define who I am. I am characterized by how I approach the future.
Phew, that was invigorating for me. Can you believe that a video game is still teaching me lessons even to this day? To me that is simply amazing.
Question time!
Can you live without your past?
Think about it. Can you exist without a past? I'm not talking about amnesia either. If a person hypothetically had no past whatsoever, could they function as a normal human being?
Until next time, stay frosty.
Okay, I got my feet wet, are you guys ready? Good.
I guess I should start by telling you what the best moment of my life was. I have a feeling this is going to sound generic, but bear with me. It was a Christmas morning back when I was about... 9 or 10 (I have a bad sense of time so I'm really not sure). It was back when my parents were still together in our big house. My brother and I had just woken up, and we ran downstairs to our living room in our pajamas. I remember that as soon as we reached the entrance to the room, we both just stood still - awe struck. I can't even come up with words to describe the emotions I felt. What did we see? No, it wasn't a tree with ornaments intricately placed about it with a mountain of presents underneath. I actually don't even remember a tree or presents at all. What I saw was our living room in perfect order, an absolutely breathtaking view of a fresh coat of fluffy snow outside, and the early morning sun lighting up everything perfectly. The scene simply stunned me. If I had to describe the sight with one word, it would be "glory"
Have you ever felt an emotion that you simply can't put into words? It's probably synonymous with the feeling you get when you can't believe it's not butter (ha, just kidding). In all seriousness though, when I think back to that day, I can't put my finger on any emotion I know. Reminiscing doesn't fill me with happiness and it doesn't make me depressed that it's over. I simply don't know of any emotion that could describe how that moment felt to me.
So moving past the emotions, what made that moment so significant? Why is it that I can remember it so vividly? Why is it that I can look you square in the face (figuratively speaking) and tell you that that moment was the greatest in all my life?
Lets approach it from some different angles, shall we?
If you read my first post, you'd know that I cherished the typical cohesive family unit. Maybe that's why that moment was so important - it was symbolic of our happy family while it was still together. Well, there's two problems with that theory. The first is that my parents weren't there with me and my brother; they were still asleep. I can't remember any faces or bodies actually, not even my brother's, I only remember the scene. Now I understand that you could argue that I cherish this memory because it could still symbolize a happy family even without people being present. But if you read all of my first post, you'd remember that my views have changed, and I don't desire the same cohesive family unit that I used to. Remember that? I'm all about independence and stuff now. So then why does this memory stand out so much? Do I subconsciously still desire the typical family dreams? Hmm, my past trying to remind me of who I am... very intriguing.
So let's try another angle. What if I cherish that memory because it is the prime example of a time that I was at a loss for words. I mentioned above that I couldn't pinpoint the emotion that I felt, so maybe that's what I actually cherish? Well, that could be, but once again I doubt it. When I think of the memory, the image comes to mind before the emotion. So I think it's more of an experience thing. Don't get me wrong, the emotion is very important, but in this case I just don't feel like it's the primary attribute to the memory. Kind of puts us in a pickle, doesn't it?
Well hang on, I'm not done yet. I have another memory that I wage on a similar level. It may not be the greatest moment of my life, but it's up there. Maybe we can use it to help the situation.
Okay, so it's not really a single memory, its more of a single experience (can you figure out what led me in this direction? hehe). This example is also a childhood memory. It's my memory of playing The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time, for the first time. I mean just wow. Every time I think back to when me and my brother were playing this game, I remember it being larger than life. To me, that game had no scope, no barriers, no limitations. It was infinite. I can't tell you how epic that game was to me. If I got to choose a time in my life that I wanted to relive, this experience is #2. By today's standards, I feel like I'm jaded. Yea, I still play games, but I don't derive nearly as much enjoyment from them as I used to. Everything was so much more magical when I was a child. I really wish I could get as happy as I used to - or maybe my memories are just amplified?
Let's get into the thick of my memory. So, what are some reasons that it would be so significant? Did the game come to define the person I am today? Well, I wouldn't go that far. It did teach me the value of courage, but I don't really identify myself with the game. It was just an insurmountable experience in my book. So then maybe, it's one of the greatest stories I've ever experienced, and that's why I value it so much. That doesn't seem to work either considering that I don't think the story to the game was all that amazing when compared to some of the other games/movies/shows/books I've played/watched/read over the years. But even so, this game in particular stands out to all others. Maybe it sparked my imagination in a way that no other game did? I can't remember ever imitating the game like I used to imitate other games. I never played "pretend" with this game (maybe because I didn't want to tarnish it? An interesting thought).
Hang on, I'm not getting anywhere. I need a different angle. What did this memory have in common with my first memory? Well, they both made me feel an emotion that I find hard to put into words.
Okay, so maybe I wasn't so far off in the first place.
I remember talking to my brother a few months ago about our experience with Zelda, and I remember getting frustrated at not being able to relive that memory. Maybe I'm scared that I'll never feel that way again in my life?
OR MAYBE
I'm scared that I'll never be aware of the emotion when I'm feeling it. Now that I think about it, when I think of these memories, the indescribable emotion is only here in the present, not in the past. In the past all I felt was happiness, I'm pretty sure of that now. Was I not aware of how happy I was? Am I frustrated because I took those feelings for granted at the time? Why am I worried about not being aware the next time I feel that level of happiness?
I guess it just feels like a missed opportunity. Do you know that feeling you get when you name who the final four are going to be in March Madness, yet you don't fill out a bracket and you end up being completely right? That's a missed opportunity. It sucks doesn't it? But why am I so worried, it's not like I don't reap the benefits of the happiness at the time, it's still a positive emotion. Maybe it's because I know that it won't last...
I think I just got a little depressed. But why though? Is there a finite amount of happiness that an individual can feel? Do we even want to be happy all the time? Is this emotion I feel really fear?
I don't know which way to go on this. Am I really afraid that I am not aware of happiness when it befalls me? I don't know why thinking of these old memories would make me afraid... but when you take into account that I would choose to relive these memories over all others, it makes more sense. My desire to relive is like my safety net. If I will never again experience or be aware of that magnitude of happiness again, I have memories to fall back on. Then that means that I am afraid of the future. Is that really true?
I don't like being afraid.
I told you that The Legend of Zelda taught me the value of courage. It taught me not to be afraid. I'm not going to let the future scare me. It may be full of uncertainty, but with courage I can make it through.
I just changed my decision. If I am given the chance to relive any memory of my life... I will decline the offer. I don't need a safety net if I march forward gallantly and unafraid. I've heard the phrase, "our past defines us" and I used to agree. I'm going to adopt a new outlook from now on. For me, the way I approach the future shall define me. My past is sacred, it has given me the tools to make the decisions that I make today, but it does not define who I am today. I have changed so much from my past, I'm not nearly the same person anymore. Sure, my past is my history, but it does not define who I am. I am characterized by how I approach the future.
Phew, that was invigorating for me. Can you believe that a video game is still teaching me lessons even to this day? To me that is simply amazing.
Question time!
Can you live without your past?
Think about it. Can you exist without a past? I'm not talking about amnesia either. If a person hypothetically had no past whatsoever, could they function as a normal human being?
Until next time, stay frosty.
03 April 2009
Broadcast Quality
Okay, by request, the topic for today is going to be related to music. Are you excited? I know I am.
So how am I going to relate music to my psyche? That's easy. Music relates to people in a whole manner of different ways. It instills emotion, describes our tastes, and in many cases, inspires us. I think I'm going to go through the evolution of my musical tastes. I seem to remember different periods in which I found different types of music more appealing than others.
So let's start at the beginning, shall we?
When I was still in elementary/middle school, I wasn't into music all that much. I had never come across anything that particularly took me. All I could remember was that a lot of music actually bored or annoyed me as a child. When you think about it, music isn't made to be appealing to us at early ages. Really, think about it - we're subjected to a slew of nursery rhymes and sing-a-longs. Sure they offer brief giggles and are somewhat soothing, but can you remember a Barney song that had profound meaning to you? My guess is no. These forms of music never really did anything for me. Music class in elementary school was mostly boring as well. I was just never amused with it at that point in my life.
Now you might be thinking, "well maybe you just weren't a musically inclined person." I'd have to say that you do make a good point - I definitely might not be a musically inclined person, but then why were so many people around me obsessed with music at such early ages? They couldn't have all had musical personas, right?
So what made me different? Was there any type of music that I did enjoy? Actually, I really enjoyed music that was found in video games. Why? I'm not exactly sure, but I have two guesses:
1) The music was very melodic. I can remember humming the tunes to many different songs as a child. The only problem is that all the rhythmic songs that I was exposed to as a child bored me. I don't think melody is the reason why I found this form of music appealing.
2) I associated the songs with an experience.
I think the second choice makes a lot more sense. Playing games was a huge part of my childhood. I derived so much enjoyment from playing games that I often wish that I could go back to my younger years to re-experience how much my imagination was enthralled. The melodies from these games were what I preferred when compared to other forms of music. Why? This was most likely the first time that particular music actually held any kind of meaning to me. When I herd these songs, I associated them with something that made me happy, as opposed to mainstream music at the time, which I associated with nothing at all.
So then why didn't mainstream music have any effect on me?
I went into some of my own personal files, and I found this segment from one of my essays:
So that was elementary and middle school. let's move on to high school.
In high school, I adopted another taste for music: heavy metal. Yup, AC/DC, Metallica, you name it. I was a metal head in the making. Why did I adopt this taste in music? Did it also have some kind of meaning to me? I think it has more to do with that I thought it sounded really cool. I think part of me was associating it with video games again. Lots of heavy metal has that "epic" feel to it, a feeling that I associated with many a game. There is a certain exhilaration that guitar riffs can give you in the midst of an apocalyptic battle. I think this form of music was just an extension of my previous tastes rather than the music having its own meaning to me. When I try to think of a heavy metal song that had its own specific meaning to me, I come up short.
So then what happened next? Well, let me tell you.
After high school, I started to explore music a little more. I still stayed away from most mainstream stuff, as it never failed to annoy the hell out of me. I moved on to music without lyrics. Why? I think I adopted this taste due to the fact that when a song has no words, I can attribute my own meaning to it. At this point, the music becomes more about emotion than anything else - nobody is telling you what the song is about, it's all up to interpretation. I think this was the first kind of music that I really started to identify with myself. When you think about it, it is really difficult to identify a genre of music with your personality. What genre of music resonates with you?
Once again, there isn't much to say about that. I will note that my interest in music still wasn't the strongest at this point. I still didn't see why so many people defined music as their lives. Sure, music was enjoyable... but your life? What these people are saying is that without music, they would die. Well, I guess music IS pretty dramatic...
Anyways, there is one more stage to my music development that I need to talk about. I am currently in this "phase" of my musical tastes, and I have to say that of all my phases, this is my favorite.
I think it should be noted that at a young age, my brother had the same tastes in music that I did when we were in elementary and middle school. However, we came to a point where we just veered off in different directions in terms of our tastes. It's because of this that when he recommends music for me, I listen. I trust his judgment because who is to say that he found the right path of preference before I did? Well, to say that he found a few types of music that appealed to my tastes would be an understatement. The truth is that the majority of my favorite bands/songs/genres are the result of his recommendations. Brand New, As Tall As Lions, Envy on the Coast, and The Receiving End of Sirens are just to name a few. The songs from these bands just mean so much to me. They aren't just a culmination of sounds strung into songs; they are stories. They are stories that I can relate to, and they are stories that align with my values. They play at my emotions, which is usually very difficult to do to me. I like that, and I'll tell you why. When something is able to pretty much sit me down and say "yea, I know how to push your buttons" and then proceeds to press every one of them, including buttons I didn't even know I had, then it shows that they know me on a personal level. Some of my friends don't even know me that well. Don't you think that's interesting?
So I also wanted to talk about one of these bands: Brand New. Apparently, after listening to them, many people come to resent the world. I will admit that a lot of their songs have depressing lyrics, but does that make me resent the world? Actually, Brand New makes me happy.
Wait, what?
How can songs with depressing undertones make you happy? Well, I couldn't tell you. When I listen to Brand New's music, I just tend to admire it. It's clever and metaphoric. So what if it's symbolic of dreary scenes? The emotions that it evicts from me are positive ones. I can't give a concrete answer to this, but I think it has to do with the fact that I enjoy it when something knows how to pull at my intricately woven strings. People are difficult instruments to play, ya know? I have a certain admiration for anything that can understand someone as complex or confused as me.
So now a question,
How do you know that the emotions a song evicts in you are the ones that the artist intended to evict?
Not as tricky as some of my other questions, but nonetheless still requires some thought.
Until next time, stay frosty.
So how am I going to relate music to my psyche? That's easy. Music relates to people in a whole manner of different ways. It instills emotion, describes our tastes, and in many cases, inspires us. I think I'm going to go through the evolution of my musical tastes. I seem to remember different periods in which I found different types of music more appealing than others.
So let's start at the beginning, shall we?
When I was still in elementary/middle school, I wasn't into music all that much. I had never come across anything that particularly took me. All I could remember was that a lot of music actually bored or annoyed me as a child. When you think about it, music isn't made to be appealing to us at early ages. Really, think about it - we're subjected to a slew of nursery rhymes and sing-a-longs. Sure they offer brief giggles and are somewhat soothing, but can you remember a Barney song that had profound meaning to you? My guess is no. These forms of music never really did anything for me. Music class in elementary school was mostly boring as well. I was just never amused with it at that point in my life.
Now you might be thinking, "well maybe you just weren't a musically inclined person." I'd have to say that you do make a good point - I definitely might not be a musically inclined person, but then why were so many people around me obsessed with music at such early ages? They couldn't have all had musical personas, right?
So what made me different? Was there any type of music that I did enjoy? Actually, I really enjoyed music that was found in video games. Why? I'm not exactly sure, but I have two guesses:
1) The music was very melodic. I can remember humming the tunes to many different songs as a child. The only problem is that all the rhythmic songs that I was exposed to as a child bored me. I don't think melody is the reason why I found this form of music appealing.
2) I associated the songs with an experience.
I think the second choice makes a lot more sense. Playing games was a huge part of my childhood. I derived so much enjoyment from playing games that I often wish that I could go back to my younger years to re-experience how much my imagination was enthralled. The melodies from these games were what I preferred when compared to other forms of music. Why? This was most likely the first time that particular music actually held any kind of meaning to me. When I herd these songs, I associated them with something that made me happy, as opposed to mainstream music at the time, which I associated with nothing at all.
So then why didn't mainstream music have any effect on me?
I went into some of my own personal files, and I found this segment from one of my essays:
People in our modern world have it engraved in their minds that they have to fit in with those who are socially accepted. One of the most common ways they do this is by changing the way they dress. Whenever a celebrity dons a new attire or creates a new “look”, people flock to the development. I don’t look down upon the idea behind this, but the way people act once a new “look” comes out upsets me. Instead of taking a new fad and adjusting it to fit your own style, people instead copy the new style down to the button. With so many people imitating a new look in exactly the same way, it loses its originality and it makes me feel as if we really are just a bunch of mindless drones. To me, creativity seems almost nonexistent as I see outlines of people who form the same shape. It is as if the only things I am looking at are silhouettes, devoid of any kind of expression or meaning. I see people wearing the same shoes, the same pants, the same shirts, and the same hats all the time. Spotting originality has become like looking for a four leaf clover.
While the passage isn't talking about music directly, I think what I was trying to say can be generalized. The passage was from an essay that I wrote about my pet peeves. As you can probably tell, I don't like sheep (or shepherds for that matter). I don't like it when people don't think for themselves. When you take that pet peeve and associate it with how everyone in my childhood all swooned over mainstream music, you can probably see why I didn't like it. To me it felt like everyone was trying to fit in by allying themselves with popular culture. Even at an early age I didn't agree with this. They weren't unique. This music didn't mean anything to them (or at least to most of them).
So that was elementary and middle school. let's move on to high school.
In high school, I adopted another taste for music: heavy metal. Yup, AC/DC, Metallica, you name it. I was a metal head in the making. Why did I adopt this taste in music? Did it also have some kind of meaning to me? I think it has more to do with that I thought it sounded really cool. I think part of me was associating it with video games again. Lots of heavy metal has that "epic" feel to it, a feeling that I associated with many a game. There is a certain exhilaration that guitar riffs can give you in the midst of an apocalyptic battle. I think this form of music was just an extension of my previous tastes rather than the music having its own meaning to me. When I try to think of a heavy metal song that had its own specific meaning to me, I come up short.
So then what happened next? Well, let me tell you.
After high school, I started to explore music a little more. I still stayed away from most mainstream stuff, as it never failed to annoy the hell out of me. I moved on to music without lyrics. Why? I think I adopted this taste due to the fact that when a song has no words, I can attribute my own meaning to it. At this point, the music becomes more about emotion than anything else - nobody is telling you what the song is about, it's all up to interpretation. I think this was the first kind of music that I really started to identify with myself. When you think about it, it is really difficult to identify a genre of music with your personality. What genre of music resonates with you?
Once again, there isn't much to say about that. I will note that my interest in music still wasn't the strongest at this point. I still didn't see why so many people defined music as their lives. Sure, music was enjoyable... but your life? What these people are saying is that without music, they would die. Well, I guess music IS pretty dramatic...
Anyways, there is one more stage to my music development that I need to talk about. I am currently in this "phase" of my musical tastes, and I have to say that of all my phases, this is my favorite.
I think it should be noted that at a young age, my brother had the same tastes in music that I did when we were in elementary and middle school. However, we came to a point where we just veered off in different directions in terms of our tastes. It's because of this that when he recommends music for me, I listen. I trust his judgment because who is to say that he found the right path of preference before I did? Well, to say that he found a few types of music that appealed to my tastes would be an understatement. The truth is that the majority of my favorite bands/songs/genres are the result of his recommendations. Brand New, As Tall As Lions, Envy on the Coast, and The Receiving End of Sirens are just to name a few. The songs from these bands just mean so much to me. They aren't just a culmination of sounds strung into songs; they are stories. They are stories that I can relate to, and they are stories that align with my values. They play at my emotions, which is usually very difficult to do to me. I like that, and I'll tell you why. When something is able to pretty much sit me down and say "yea, I know how to push your buttons" and then proceeds to press every one of them, including buttons I didn't even know I had, then it shows that they know me on a personal level. Some of my friends don't even know me that well. Don't you think that's interesting?
So I also wanted to talk about one of these bands: Brand New. Apparently, after listening to them, many people come to resent the world. I will admit that a lot of their songs have depressing lyrics, but does that make me resent the world? Actually, Brand New makes me happy.
Wait, what?
How can songs with depressing undertones make you happy? Well, I couldn't tell you. When I listen to Brand New's music, I just tend to admire it. It's clever and metaphoric. So what if it's symbolic of dreary scenes? The emotions that it evicts from me are positive ones. I can't give a concrete answer to this, but I think it has to do with the fact that I enjoy it when something knows how to pull at my intricately woven strings. People are difficult instruments to play, ya know? I have a certain admiration for anything that can understand someone as complex or confused as me.
So now a question,
How do you know that the emotions a song evicts in you are the ones that the artist intended to evict?
Not as tricky as some of my other questions, but nonetheless still requires some thought.
Until next time, stay frosty.
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