Monday, 9 April 2012


Sometimes it feels like more than it is - an all-pervasive sweeping breeze of nostalgia that refuses to alter its course. Sometimes it’s a song, often and surprisingly one you haven’t heard before, or even associated with anything enough for it to be imprinted on your mind. It’s this human thing, something we all cannot shake, a surge of liquid ecstasy drifting around in our bodies. Nostalgia, everywhere, always, a feeling of “Was it better then?” or “Did I even exist then?”

I’m frequently engaged in nostalgia, for it shadows me like a cloud shadows the sun. Maybe it’s innate, maybe it has a hypersensitive sensor that simply cannot withstand an entire 3 minutes of John Denver’s senses being filled up without making my eyes secrete water like a flooded sponge. It’s "Run around Sue", and "Walk of Life", and every Jimi Hendrix song that I didn’t see live. It’s a whole collection of jigsawed words that when strung together and strummed inspire every cell of my being to make music.

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