Absolute loneliness, and absolute sublimity.
The song is as depressing as it is empowering. The use of electronic guitar is skillful, creating a heated, yet suffocating atmosphere. The notes are fast and heavy, but never redundant. You can feel the blazing sun burning right through your skin; you can hear the wind roaring, rumbling through the hillside; but you can also see the dark blue moonlight and its reflection in the water on a serene winter night. The song might not be relatable because it sounds like something personal. The lyrics don’t matter though because different people get different things out of it. The song is emotional, and the singer has an amazing and dreadful voice. He must be crying inside, I thought to myself.
I have loved the song for one full year. I loved the song the first time I heard it. Once in a while, it was left in the dusty drawer in my heart. But every time I hear it, I fall in love with it again. I loved the song for various reasons. When the song came up, I got homesick; I got lovesick too, missing someone so close, yet so far away.
Recently the song was retaken out of the dusty drawer. But my feeling towards the song has changed. Perhaps it’s because I no longer miss the person that I am supposed to miss. Perhaps I am in a different location. Perhaps for once in my life, I am alone.
I am lonely, but I feel that I shouldn’t be lonely. I am suffocated, but there’s plenty of air. I am numb, but I am soberer than ever; I feel lost, but the map is right in front of me; I’m bleeding inside, but that’s the only way I get to feel alive. Perhaps it’s the side effect of having too much time to myself. Perhaps I am a slave to freedom. Perhaps insecurity is a human condition that I am not ready to accept.
I miss home, but where exactly is home? I miss you too, but who is “you” supposed to be? What if one day I am out of songs to love, just like I am out of people to miss? I do not dare to imagine.