I’m currently crying over the fact that I like to have dreams bigger than me, ones that I’ve never tried. But when I decode them, like one does with a song when they learn the theory: practising the instruments, familiarising oneself with the production, and normalising patterns. Naturally, it’s stripped down. So in this full grasp, you look for the lo-fi aspects thrown into shadow, where the beauty isn’t dependent on titular factors that blind you. Not saying those factors are cheap, it’s just it becomes flat when you fully understand the infrastructure of it all.
It emotionally provokes me because I find myself to be a very emotional, sensitively driven person that isn’t easily impressed or compelled by most media or art; it does not evoke much in me. But I want to have dreams and stimuli bigger than me, so I find circles and havens of music, globally. Though, when I strip it down to see a scarce amount of emotion or profundity, similarly, reading the lyrics and finding them dull, trite. It just hurts because now that I’ve acquired more knowledge on music theory, and yearn for emotional mirroring, I realise most music I like, I’ve only jived with in relations to melodies mechanically built to impress and not emotion. I’ve tricked myself to feel less alone.
I wish I didn’t know what I’ve acquired and deciphered.
However, realistically speaking dreams are of my stature, the same way any human thought or ambition is of the matter inside all of us; fantasy is yet again unachieved, and that was to be expected, through experiential wisdom, like learning music theory.
germansingergirl
gummygunk
origamiaround
