This may sound peculiar, but at this very moment, I'm contemplating on abstaining from mainstream music for the next few weeks or so. Over the past week, I've been getting extremely annoyed with all the generic tracks I've been hearing either in public places or on the radio due to the fact that they all have one thing in common - they all revolve around the theme, love.
It's easy to say you love someone, without comprehending what you mean when you express it. It's also easy to say that love is a feeling, given that most people connote the word "love" with the emotions one feels in a relationship, particularly romantic ones. On the other hand, the term "love" as defined by mainstream media depicts a state of trance, paradise, solace, a firework of refreshing sensations and ultimately, ecstasy. I don't know about you, but earnestly, I see it everywhere. I find it prominent in movies, in mainstream music videos (and the occasional hipster one as well), in ads and most evidently in books, which is also another reason why I've abstained from sci-fi and fantasy novels for the time being. If you are argue with me on books, kindly desist because the fact that a certain read known as 50 Shades of Grey actually exists nullifies the validity of your argument in the first place.
However, the direction I'm going in isn't a thoroughly loathsome one, where I begin complaining about how inaccurate these definitions of love are. I have no intentions of imposing my two cents on anyone today in this state of mental fatigue, and I have no plans to do so at least for now.
Instead, what I'm merely trying to say is this - I am SICK and TIRED of seeing the notion of LOVE being casually inculcated into every single bloody generic song there is on the face of this earth because nothing else on this earth matters to anyone, other than hitting the club, getting high, making love and going skinny dipping on some fancy beach on an island off the coast of Central America (go ahead, pick one).
Honestly though, I'm just saying.
Therefore, I have concluded that abstinence is the terminal solution to this matter. Until the world (the media, to be precise) stumbles into utter realization that their portrayal of love is completely biased towards secularism and possibly incorrect, I will be forced to turn a deaf ear to a major part of my life which is essentially, music. Sure, I might still be tuned in to Christian rock and other related genres and perhaps some of the obscure bands I currently listen to (given that they write songs about matters not pertaining to romantic inclinations), but that's pretty much just it. I don't think I can live another day with the bombardment of tracks that promote feelings of ecstasy or even creative ideas on how to get even with your ex-boyfriend although it was obviously your fault. I'm quite sure you know who I'm referring to in the latter (Taylor Swift, that's who *coughs*), but hey, we all have those moments. At least, we girls do. Sometimes. Okay, maybe a couple more than that, but I digress.
Furthermore, I refuse to allow myself to slip into misery once more. While music may not impact other individuals directly, it affects me profoundly. There was a point in my life where I was addicted to music - it was the main outlet of ridding myself of frustration, albeit a temporary one. I used to drown myself in tracks of teenage angst after a devastating emotional ordeal in order to stray away from reality or simply to reinforce the practice of self-pity. After all, being able to relate to a song slowly renders you in animosity towards others, thinking them all predator to a fragile soul when in truth, they are all oblivious to your sorrows. Recently, this phenomenon has somewhat returned due to emotional vulnerabilities and I have to admit, I've been listening to music for hours on end as a form of withdrawal and it's certainly not healthy. My attention deficit has skyrocketed in the past few days and I have been too phlegmatic in the past few days to do any actual studying. In fact, I have a mass communications test tomorrow and yet, here I am, ostensibly dealing with my psyche, even after attempting catharsis by watching clips from The Breakfast Club and listening to Don't You Forget About Me for the umpteenth time.
Oh, how I amuse myself sometimes (literally).
I believe this is the moment I make my escape from the world of psychedelia and return to the unappealing and afflicting realm of reality. In accordance to the statement, my best friend says I am such a pessimist pertaining life. I argued by stating the age old deduction that for a pessimist, I am pretty optimistic, but all in all I can only say that time will tell and as of now, life appears darker and more sinister than ever.
But it has been a pleasure. Really.
No comments:
Post a Comment