Yet that words can't describe
I have often wondered if I have a slight version of obsessive compulsive disorder. Nothing of the obvious sort like rearranging my cutlery or washing my hands, none of that boring ordinary stuff for me! No, I think I have a far more interesting, but probably much more common sort of OCD.
Given, I have no idea what classifies this disorder, what symptoms you need to display in order to be given the official title. And don't get me wrong, I am most certainly not making fun of this serious disorder. I once watched a documentary (trash tv more likely) where Dr. Phil put a whole lot of people with obsessive compulsive disorder in a house together, and let me tell you, this is serious business.
For me, it is music. I get obsessed about music. And not like a 15 year old girl who falls in love with the lead singer and has poster's of him and the band plastered all over her walls. No, this is much more serious than that. I have no poster's. I have no over zealous passion for the singer/guitarist/drummer. Perhaps I don't even own any of their CD's (although in some cases...I own all of them). When I get obsessed with a band/song/album it is bad. Bad for other people around me anyway. For example, my most recent obsession has been with Dead Letter Circus, a progressive rock band from Brisbane. Sure, progressive rock is for the slightly self-righteous 'appreciator's' of music. And while I am a very large fan of The Mars Volta and Tool, progressive rock is not necessarily 'my' genre. (Although I just contradicted myself in my own sentence...) But this band....oh this band!
What can be said? Each listening of the two albums gains me access to a new level of appreciation of their music. I honestly cannot explain it. There is just something about their music that touches me so deeply. Some of their songs bring me tears. Other songs make my chest feel like it is going to explode. The interesting part is that I don't know many of the lyrics. It is not 'all about the lyrics' for me. It really is the sounds that these boys create that moves me. And each time I listen, I'm moved at a new level. And then I pick up on a particular line in a song, understand the lyrics, and am moved at an entirely new level.
This band (there are others too, don't worry, they are just the current obsession) creates something in me that I struggle to express in words (strange for me, very confusing and disorienting). I truly wish that everybody could be inside my body when I listen to them. That really is the only way of understanding what they do to me. A great friend of mine and I once had conversation where, although we couldn't really express it, we could understand that music has this effect on both of us. She simply said...do you ever listen to some songs, and you feel like your chest is going to explode and you can't breathe? All I could say was yes, of course, and we understood. It's not even the same band or music for us, but whatever it is, we are both profoundly affected by something in music, in general.
I sincerely applaud musicians. Writing, as wonderful a craft as it is, is not that hard. We are taught language from birth. Creative writing is just a talent that we hone, or it is god-given, or whatever you believe. But music...where does it come from? If I were to philosophise about anything in life, it would be music. It is honestly the one thing that gets to me, that I can't figure out, that I can't understand using either my intellectual or creative brain. I love it, and it stumps me continuously. It moves me and generates me, and I couldn't live without it.
And then I meet those people who just don't get it. I find it quite distressing. The one's who say, I'm not that interested in music. You know, I like it, but I don't need to listen to it. WHAT??!! If I don't listen to any music in a day, I go crazy. If my car's sound system died (touch wood)...I think I would actually die. Not like an over-dramatisation. As in, I believe I would either implode or self-combust. I once lived for five days without a sound system in my house, all I had was my laptop (it has one broken speaker). That was definitely the craziest I have ever been in the last five years, and not crazy in a good way, as anyone who was around me then will testify. I have never succumbed to depression, until about day three of that time. I was known to moan longingly. Like some sort of bizarre dog.
(lyrics taken from Dead Letter Circus...obviously)
The reason why may not be found
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