The show must go on

Music as a gateway to ourselves

When I can't talk about something, I sing (badly, yeah, but who cares). When I can't write, I listen to music. It's as simple as that, and I could actually just end the post here and link some of my favorite songs for the few that will read it. But... The memories that play in the back of my head deserve a little better. Even if it is just writing them down to be read in a few months or years.

I tried to pick just a song that encompassed what music means for me, and even though it might appear like a weird choice, or not the most suitable, it is what it is. And it was what it was for me. Back then, when I first started discovering my music taste, I was obsessed with my Sony Discman, and I kept looking for new rad tracks to add to my CDs. I was also very interested in self-learning English, and music was a nice resource for that.

My high school uniform consisted of a blouse and a skirt, and I was lucky enough to be able to fit the Discman into the side pocket. I carried that precious thing everywhere; the earphones hidden under my curly hair, the songs blasting non-stop. My favorite teacher, the English one, my dear Omar, always knew I wasn't listening to his class. He would glance at me reproachfully (not really) and I would stare back with a cheeky smile.

I discovered Queen at 13 years old, going through my mom's vinyl collection. To explain what I felt when I first heard Bohemian Rhapsody... It just clicked with me. Six minutes of close-to-perfection trance, and I would just break the replay button, trying to grasp every little new detail that came with each new moment. If we'd go out, the Discman would always be with me, this song on repeat. I can still picture my concentration frown, picking on the pronunciation and meaning of the words, the rollercoaster of emotions, the notes, the harmonies, and most of all, the plaint that the song holds. It spoke to me, deeply.

My family knew better than to interrupt the flow of the song, and they would just wait until I plugged the earphones out. Most of the time. Almost never. Despite people insisting on talking to me while Freddie and I cried inside in two totally different eras and spaces, my mind would just continue to play the song. I still can do that, play Bohemian Rhapsody in my head, top to bottom, front and backward. I memorized it. There are probably other songs that mean more to me or are more closely related to my life, but this one has a very special place in my heart.

I used to have an insanely strong crush on Freddie Mercury, even though he was already dead when I was born. His voice soothed me, gave me strength, reminded me to keep shining and smiling, to act like the royalty I can be: kindly, gracefully, but always firmly. I still go to Queen's music to cheer myself up and dance, as we all should do from time to time. To not lose the habit. As I finish writing this post, I'm listening to this and other Queen songs, among my favorites as well. I have to admit I was not in the best state of mind when I started typing and that I needed a little spark to surf this tide successfully. And I am doing it. For me.

Quoting His Royal Highness...

^{I'd like to thank you for reading this. I hope my words resonated with you in some way. If they did, or even if they didn't, I'd like to further connect with you, so I invite you to drop a comment and I'll answer it as soon as I can.}