You know those moments when you hear a song, by chance, and for some reason, you can never scrape it off of the linoleum of your cranial cavity? You're not really sure how it got there, why it's there, or why it's made its habitat on your brain-floor, but what you know is that .. you don't mind. You like having more company in your already cluttered space. You decide that it should stay there, splat on the ground, next to other random bits of information, like "your favorite yoga pose is the Sage Pose, followed by anything that stretches your back" which looks like a miniature Buddha figurine that's gotten super-glued to the floor, or "you need to feed your cat before he gets angry and starts gnawing at your ankles," which looks like a can of cat food with a bright, red exclamation point above it. Or a fang stuck in the cover.
.. Wow, that was a long analogy for something simple. Sorry, folks. I think I'm getting cabin fever, being locked in this office from 9 - 5 every day. I'm also getting creepy vibes from whatever still inhabits this place (it used to be a psychiatric hospital) .. and they are not very friendly. You know that feeling of being unwanted? Of being scrutinized from some invisible pair of eyes? Of being sneered at behind your back? Yeah, I get that feeling here. And it's not because of the people I work with - they're awesome. They're friendly and I can't remember most of their names. It's something bigger, something .. stranger.
But I digress.
The point of this post was to talk about songs that get stuck in your head. As of late, it's been all of Owl City's songs. I found them through the miracle that is Pandora, and I've been addicted ever since. My favorites include, "Fuzzy Blue Lights," "I'll Meet You There," "The Saltwater Room," and "Captains and Cruise Ships."
If you want they according to mood:
Mellow/Sad: Fuzzy Blue Lights, The Saltwater Room
Upbeat/Kind of Reminds You Of Another Song From Someone: I'll Meet You There, Captains and Cruise Ships
Go here and listen to them. The four songs are scattered about my blip station, but seriously. Have a listen. Then buy their stuff on iTunes. You won't regret it, I promise.
- May (you live a life worthy of a soundtrack)
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About Me
- May
- She is the Metropolitan Museum of Art, with a hint of MoMA and the Whitney. She is Walt Whitman's "Myself" in "Song of Myself." She is an incomplete stanza of a finished poem. She is the subtitle at the bottom of the screen of a foreign film, spelled wrong. She is the low E string of a guitar. She is the G chord on a piano. She is the Tube, the NY Subway System, the T, the Metro, and everything in between. She is one of the grains of sand on a beach, anywhere in the world. She is the needle, injecting ink into someone's skin. She is the bubble racing from the bottom of a pint of Guinness. She is the Flat Iron building. She is the imaginary film in your digital camera. She is the musty smell of an old book you found in the back of a dusty bookstore. She is not one but two twins of the Gemini sign. She is the middle line at the bottom of the peace sign. She is the "you" when Paul McCartney sings "All you need is love." She is her. No one else.
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