Music, Sex & Everything Else

I had a shitty morning. Like really shitty. Yes, yes, I know … define shitty, right? I mean it’s not like there was a massive earthquake and I got sucked down a crevasse that I’ll never emerge from. SIDEBAR, even if I did, I kinda believe in Superman so I’m sure he’d just fly backwards around the world a few times, reverse time, and pull me out so really, that wouldn’t have been so bad.

So my kind of shitty usually stems from my own silly self. Meaning I get caught up in a negative-thought spiral and before I know it, I’m stuck. BUT. Insert music … insert songs with lyrics that remind you not only is it OK to be pissed off at your self, but, that you’re not alone … not ever. And, sometimes, the right song can hit you harder than cupids bow and BAM you catch yourself singing (or screaming in my case) insanely loud and again, BAM, you feel better.

“Music gives a soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination and life to everything.” ~ Plato

I have playlists for running, for writing, for driving … and I have favorite stations for house cleaning, for cooking, for entertaining, for sex OK OK maybe not (or maybe) just wanted to make sure you were still reading … and there are songs that no matter how I feel, can instantly transform my demeanor, be it for better or worse.

Case in point … you know Pharrell’s Happy song? No, not the one that makes him happy, but the one where he sings about being happy—yea, that one. The one that dares you to “Clap along if you will …” I have witnessed strangers clapping along … children singing along … it’s contagious. And its positive energy flows through people like air. I will add, that on a personal note, any fondness I once had for that song disappeared last winter when one morning after a day of unseasonably warm weather, I left my sunroof open and when I backed out of the garage—all the while clapping along to the mega hit—into the once again snowy outdoors, I was pelted with snowflakes. Needless to say any happiness I felt quickly disappeared, and I soon deleted the song from all my playlists (except the sex one, haha, just kidding, I mean who claps along when they’re having sex).

There are a few other songs I’ve added to playlists only to remove later—ones that while I like the tune itself, the imagery or place in time where it takes me isn’t always someplace I want to return. Like the one that reminds me of a dear friend I lost a few years ago … it will bring me to my knees, make me pull over in my car. And the one that during my years of working retail, would play over and over and over again on the store-wide speaker system and makes me want to vomit when I hear it now.

And there are those that will always remain on my playlists because they transport me to the places I never want to forget … ones that turn me on … make me sad … make me think … make me happy.

I mean you ever wonder why the Wiggles were so damn happy? Music. Duh. Music can set the tone for just about everything … weddings, a restaurant’s atmosphere, your morning workout. It can change your mood … give wings to your mind, flight to your imagination. It can change your outlook, alter your entire state of being … especially, if you recognize its power to do so. And now you know why The Wiggles were always so happy.

And so while a lot of people might not care for my eclectic mix of The Beastie Boys, The Cure, and Merle Haggard, I do, they make me happy … unlike that aforementioned song of the same name.  Although someday, I’m sure I’ll learn to like it again … because words set to music have a way of kneading one’s soul and quite frankly, I think that’s one of the greatest gifts we have been bestowed. Now go hum a little melody and spread the love peeps ;) Oh, as for that sex playlist … yea, I know that’s the only reason some of you are still reading … I’m still working on it, so stay tuned (wink, wink).

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DISCLAIMER: I’m a writer and an editor. And I try my best to make sure every post is articulate and free from errors. However, being that I edit my own work—and it’s next to impossible to properly edit your own work—I admit, occasionally there may be an error or two I miss. But doing so doesn’t make me an idiot so don’t be mean. Just smile, pat yourself on the back for finding an error and be glad you’re not the only one who makes mistakes sometimes … xoxox

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