I swear, I must like to do this to myself- "this" meaning: watch movies that remind me how utterly alone I am and then play songs on repeat that remind me how utterly alone I am.
The word- utterly, is a pretty pathetic word in itself. When I describe myself as UTTERLY anything, I paint a nice misty grey picture of me bawling so hard I cannot distinguish between my snot and my tears. Which is, utterly, disgusting. Just say it- UGGHHHHHtterly, it echoes the sound of- WAAAA, ya know, like a fucking baby.
I watched Once tonight. Beautiful movie, amazing soundtrack. Then, since I was in "that space", I decided to whip out my Ipod, and really go there.
There; the place where utterly lives. The place where you store all of your sweet memories of, "what was". The place where you visualize sweet nothings that people have said. The place where you try to convince yourself that those "nothings" were "somethings."
The place that so VIVIDLY remembers exactly what if felt like to intertwine your fingers with someones, to have hair wiped from your eyes, so they can see you better, to not having to explain yourself- cause they already understood, to have someone touch your waist, to remember the feeling of socked feet pretezling into one another under the weight of blankets and body heat.
There is a place we keep. We hold. We wrap safely in memories cushioned with fondness, and wrap it tightly enough as to forget the places where it went wrong. There doesn't hold anything but good. Good that was, and that isn't. There; remembers what they last ordered at Starbucks, and the way they walked. There, genuine child-like excitement happened every time you answered the phone and every time he said I miss you. There was full of butterflies. There, was happy.
And who better to take you There and remind you how much you miss feeling that way and remind you, how you are, utterly, singular than;
Whitney Houston- That's right ladies and gents. WHIT. My girl. The one true, pure voice of our age. I say that with complete sincerity. Come on, before she pulled the whole "crack is wack" stunt....she sang "I HAVE NOTHING." If you're having a memory lapse, I suggest renting The Bodyguard and brushing up on your history, and stop embarrassing me with your lack of musical aptitude .
"I have nothing" is BY FAR. One of the greatest songs ever written. I can only imagine when the recording was finished that everyone involved said, "WORD, we can retire now." Clearly, Whitney did.
It is emotional, flawless, immaculate-how about when she says, "Don't you DAAAARE walk away from Me- E-EEE" You know brother man turned right back around. ."....I if don't have yooooouuuu....you OO OO." Boo, Devil! She had me at hello. Or something.
On with the torture.
How about this sparkling gem of a downer-
Mariah Carey -"If it's over" My personal favorite and somewhat lesser known. Since, Mariah was always crying about something, it got lost among the collection of heart snatching hits. And to follow up, try-"Can't Let Go" Just in case you haven't considered running in front of a bus or becoming a nun by now.
Yes, I understand- I had a late 80's throwback night of wailing songstresses. I'm not crying in a cup of black coffee over Deathcab for Cutie or Bright Eyes, the more acceptable emo/indie thing to do. I'm not nearly as cool as I fooled you into thinking I am and my pajamas have cats wearing pearls on them. What now?
And last, but certainly not least- seeing as she is the only one who continues to have a sane career:
Melissa Etheridge-"The Letting Go" Apparently women are capable of afflicting anguish upon the heart as well. Not that I would know...
So, in order to get out of There, and get back to here; wherever the fuck that is. I decided to download The Scissor Sisters "I don't feel like dancin'" and "shake it off". But, just in case I feel like spiraling down the well of eternal bitter "Old Maid" and Valentine's Day boycotting organizer-
Did I miss any tunes that take you There?