It’s been on repeat for hours now. I thought sharing it might be a good idea. Depeche Mode – In Your Room

In your room
Where time stands still
Or moves at your will
Will you let the morning come soon
Or will you leave me lying here
In your favourite darkness
Your favourite half-light
Your favourite consciousness
Your favourite slave (more…)

There are certain songs that seem retrained, slow, peaceful, a certain rhythm that keeps on repeating. A voice that makes no effort, not even on the chorus part. It’s calm, it accepts what’s said in the song. It all seems smooth, normal, it’s a song of dealing with life. But if you actually listen to it, you feel the storm, thunder, earthquake hidden in it. The tormented soul, the restless mind, the pain, the anger, the pain, the torture. All hidden under a smiling face, listening to a song, dealing with the people around.

That tortured soul is just looking for a way to channel out all that’s eating it alive, from the inside. And the song helps. This is what listening to The Frames – Seven day mile triggered in my mind…

I haven’t really missed school. Not for a second, not even college. And especially not high-school or secondary… It was all a closed chapter in my life. But this year is all different. A couple of weeks ago I was with my mom, walking on the streets of Ploiesti early in the morning. “This feels exactly like the mornings when we left home together, you going to work, me going to school,” I said with a melancholic smile on my face. She was smiling too, remembering it all. Reliving it probably.

Then today, at about noon, while walking by a school, I heard kids laughing and running, I saw the autumn leaves fallng off the tree branches, I could smell the new books and notebooks. I could remember how I felt, challanged to do more. I wanted out, out of the teenage label people had put on me. I wanted to be a grown up, I wanted to start living, I wanted the worries and the adventures.

Now I miss high-school. I miss secondary school. I miss the times when life was a lot less complicated. And as I said, walking by that schoo, I miss the view on the world I had back then. Full of hope and full of dreams. It some how got less colorful as the years passed.

Happiness is a great but weird feeling. We crave for it, it’s not constant and we miss feeling it when it’s not there. When the sun isn’t shining and the birds are not singing and we’re not better at facing the bad and the ugly of the day, we wish for happiness. But being happy helps you enjoy everything more, the simple pleasures as well. A dance class when you’re dead tired and can barely keep your eyes open. A text you only saw hours later, but still made you smile. A song (which is actually a sad one), a few pages in a book, coffee in the morning.I wonder if we’re able to find so much pleasure in simple things when we are not generally happy with our life.

And when we are happy…we can disregard so much! It’s not all perfect, some things could be improved, some calls would be better off not made, it’s not all exactly as we want it. But it’s generally want we need and want, what makes us sleep better, what keeps the monsters in our mind at bay for a while…

But the thing with the sad songs that you listen to smiling is one of the weirdest parts. Here’s for example one of my new favorites. And yes, I always smile.

The more frequent “yes” replies, the excitement for really boring chores, the increased strength, the will to try harder to make others happy. It’s all triggered by this feeling. Misery might love company, but so does happiness. It doesn’t just love it, it’s more like a virus, it needs to infect others as well.

If you have a condition that makes you want to travel, travel and never stop traveling, then moving right next to the airport is a very bad choice. Every time you see a plane take off, your heart starts racing and you know you’d love to be in that plane as well. It does not even matter where it goes.

It happens at every take off. And there are plenty of those throughout the day! But other than wanting to pack my things and go, I remember this specific song. It’s Snow Patrol, Chasing Cars. Well, planes in my case. And the need to just get moving is replaced by this acute desire to just lie down somewhere in my garden and chase planes in our heads, holding hands, saying nothing… (more…)