between my overwhelming fascination with baroque music and the subsequent loss of interest in almost everything else (somewhat unintentionally, really), last.fm had completely faded from my memory until a sudden nostalgia was provoked and i remembered i once listened to music that had lyrics that weren't those of french baroque operas. (or porter's or carmichael's, as i fortunately have been able to do more than a fair share of listening to fats waller and hoagie carmichael.)
now listening to the songs i once held so dear, it's a strange reminder of how much has changed, how much i've changed, how i'd almost forgotten completely the other incarnations of laura. this music is still dear, though, only in the way a baby blanket is or old photographs are. i can't think of anything else that so vividly recreates the state of mind, the worlds internal and external i've existed in than listening to the music i once clung to, once immersed myself in, that once was a lens for me to look at the world through.
it's so very strange to grow up. in some ways, i feel younger now than i ever have (just old enough to see how young i am), but yet in others, ancient, far too weary for what my years would suggest. this is all a little disorienting.
now listening to the songs i once held so dear, it's a strange reminder of how much has changed, how much i've changed, how i'd almost forgotten completely the other incarnations of laura. this music is still dear, though, only in the way a baby blanket is or old photographs are. i can't think of anything else that so vividly recreates the state of mind, the worlds internal and external i've existed in than listening to the music i once clung to, once immersed myself in, that once was a lens for me to look at the world through.
it's so very strange to grow up. in some ways, i feel younger now than i ever have (just old enough to see how young i am), but yet in others, ancient, far too weary for what my years would suggest. this is all a little disorienting.
