Hiding in the Backwaters Just one more blog on the net.

Confessions of a music junkie.

"Hello. My name is Sean and I'm a musiholic."

I listen to music all the time. I wear headphones at work, always have music on in the car, and most of the time when I am at home. I love my iPod. Music is in my blood somehow. There is just something about setting words to music that I gives it an extra punch. It's like a form of commuication that is understood instictively without the rational mind having to translate, dilute and/or impede.

As a result music plays a big role in the way I relate to and remember life. For example, in 1999 the Footloose album was re-released for the 15 year anniversary. I'd always enjoyed the music from that movie so I bought it. Listening to that album for the first time in many years was one of several defining moments in my decision to come out. Listening to Bonnie Tyler's "Holding Out For A Hero" inspired a vivid recollection of a young 17 year-old and his desires and hopes for love. I knew then if that song could make me feel at 32 exactly the way I felt at 17, after 8+ years of marriage and 5 years of therapy, there really was nothing that was going change.

Today a song came up on my play list I also haven't heard in a while. With over 2,500 tracks, it can be months before some songs manage to be shuffled to the top of the playlist. Probably because I'm rather tired today, this song also brought back some vivid feelings, this time from 1999 itself: the year my wife and I split, the year my life was in complete disarray, the year I spent rather angry with God.

I thought I saw a man brought to life
He was warm
He came around like he was diginified
He showed what it was to cry
Well, you couldn't be that man that I adored
You don't seem to know
Seem to care what your heart is for
But I don't know him anymore
There's nothing where he used to lie
Conversation has run dry
That's what's going on

Nothing's fine. I'm torn
I'm all out of faith
This is how I feel
I'm cold and I am shamed
Lying naked lying on the floor
Illusion never changed
Into something real
I'm wide awake
And I can see the perfect sky is torn
You're a little late
I'm already torn

Natalie Imbruglia, "Torn"