Tuesday, June 24, 2008

the music.

Music has always played a significant part in my life. Both my parents were singers (just in plays, choirs, that sort of thing), and I've grown up singing, although I never was able to really play an instrument. I preferred writing. But I've always appreciated it, and as I've gotten older and more technologically dependent, I now can't imagine a day without music. My iTunes library only boasts about 3500 songs, but I can assure you that I know every word to every one of those songs. Maybe that's why there's no room for other things like, oh, my times tables.

Anyways, on to the point... I've always equated sex with music. And vice-versa. I don't mean this in the I've-seen-too-much-porn-where-every-sex-act-is-accompanied-by-the-bowchikawowow kind of way, but more like I think making sex (I really don't like the term making love... it makes me uncomfortable. Let's not go into what that says about me) is a little like making music. I always prefer to have sex with music in the background. It's like our bodies, and the breathing, and the sound of skin on skin adds a whole new element to the music. And there are definitely certain songs I associate with certain people. Let's run over a list of those. (In no particular order.)

Dirty Little Secret - All-American Rejects (oddly enough, this song never made me feel bad about the brief affair that this was. It still makes me smile)

Konstantine - Something Corporate (Anyone who knows me even the tiniest knows the story behind this song. Needless to say, I don't listen to it much anymore.)

Ruthless - Something Corporate (I know I already have a song by the band on here, but I very distinctly remember listening to this when I was deciding to go to college, which, for me, was in many ways a choice on who I was going to be with. That relationship didn't work out, but this person is still completely pivotal in my life to the point that I couldn't function without them. There's a line here that says "Cause by now/I know you better than yourself/and I know what you really need/or I need/but either way/this is where we should be...") Also, anything by Lacuna Coil reminds me of this person... But that one's obvious.

Narcissus/Hands Clean - Alanis Morisette (This was a long time ago, but the words still ring so true. Ha.)

Fix You - Coldplay (and this one, the memories aren't so pleasant. I mostly remember this song being used as a guilt-trip. On an almost-daily basis.) Also, for this relationship... Poor Little Rich Boy - Regina Spektor. This one's self-explantory. Oh, and Face Down - Red Jumpsuit Apparatus. (Yeah, this was a BAD relationship. Any time I need this much music that's all this depressing to get me through the day, it's no bueno.)

Almost anything by Dispatch (which is funny, because this isn't the person who introduced me to the band, but I distinctly remember driving back from the mountains the first time we kissed and as I was falling asleep in the passenger seat, he put on Dispatch for me. We still text each other whenever we hear it.)

Of All the Gin Joints in all the World - Fall Out Boy ("You only hold me up like this/Cause you don't know who I really am." 'Nuf said.)

Mindless Self Indulgence (I've sworn off this band because the memories attached to it are too strong and it's an incredible trigger for me. This is the downside to being so in tune with music. I remember him putting this on loud enough to drown out my cries for help.)

Say Goodnight and Go - Imogen Heap (for a good friend who I was just friends with for a long time, and we never seem to have feelings for one another at the same time. It's kind of funny, actually.)

Tears and Rain - James Blunt (all of his music reminds me of my time in Seattle, but this song specifically reminds me of something that never happened while I was there. A missed opportunity, we'll call it. That might have been something good.)

How You Remind Me - Nickelback (for my first-ever boyfriend when I was 14. We used to sneak off to the library and as we'd cuddle, we'd listen to this on his laptop. I don't know where he is now.)

And this one is in chronological order...

Bowlegged and Starving - Jay Brannan (for my current situation. Again, it's something that seems like it should make me feel dirty, but everytime I hear it, I can't help but smile. The line, in particular, that says "I'm bowlegged and starving/but walking home happy/let this mark the moment/when I felt freedom ring" strikes a chord. No pun intended.)


Wow. That was an interesting trip down memory lane. And I know that makes it look like all I listen to is Emo, and that I just have generally terrible taste in music (with a few notable exceptions, thank you), but it's the lyric-heavy music I tend to connect with situations. It makes it easier to draw parallels after the experience is over and starting to fade from memory.

And all this leads into something I was actually going to write about in another post: my "number." The person I'm with now asked me about my number the other night. I didn't tell him. I jokingly asked him his, and he told me it was 6. Which I was actually surprised at - I'd expected it to be higher. I've had him up on a pedestal for so long that I assumed everyone sees him like I do and has been as eager to jump into bed with him as I was. Which, maybe they were. If that's the case, then I feel even more special. Heh. I'm going to go ahead and believe that.

BUT. the point is, my number is higher than that. Like, a lot higher. I'm not going to publish it here... partially because I'd need to go back over and update the list. But I think, now knowing his number, I'm glad he doesn't know mine. It does lead me to wonder, though, how much sex is too much sex?

Hmm. Channeling Carrie Bradshaw there. Sorry about that. It's the shoe collection calling my name from the closet. :) OK. I apologize for the absolute randomness of this post. But to wrap it up in the same fashion, and try and tie it all together... here's the first poem I've written in almost a year. So I'm a little rusty. So forgive me.

The silence isn't so oppressive
when I'm with you.
Usually bearing down on me
Too heavy to think
or feel or act
It starts to lift the moment
your lips touch mine.
And as your arms envelop me,
The silence vanishes
Replaced by something unspoken
And bigger than either of us.
The heat between us
begins to buzz.
As out breathing quickens
Creating a frenetic baseline.
Our bodies, slick and sticky with desire
Move against in unison
And I am so lucidly aware
of every sensation in my body
I realize I can't feel the silence.
Instead I listen to the the
rhythm of our breath
The melody of our bodies
And the harmony of the lust
Searing between us
As we go harder faster longer
We've created a symphony
And the music is tangible
A soundtrack to us
Our lives, our passion.
And as it builds to a crescendo
It gets louder
harder, faster, more urgent
Until it reaches that moment
When every instrument plays
In some massive
harmonious
dischord
Where no single note is discernible
So like our bodies.
And then
The music slows
And the silence quietly
Makes its way back into the air
But it's lost some of its power
And the weight it had
to crush me
Is infinitely lighter
Unable to compare
to the music we make together.




(yeah, I've never been a strong writer when I'm happy. So it goes.)

2 comments:

Essin' Em said...

re: your number.

Actually, this was a question I was asking people around the same time that stuff happened, but...um, who makes up your number? Only people who you've had vaginal sex with? Only people with whom you've enjoyed sex? People who have touched you below the belt? People who have made you hot and horny? People you've kissed?

Because your number might be waaay higher, but if his number is only people he's had PIV with, then you have to take that into consideration.

Hmmm...I may write a post on this now...thanks for the inspiration

Essin' Em said...

RYC: Actually, one of the few things I haven't gotten to experience has been strap on sex (on either end)...but fucking people with my hand works well too.

Sunday may be awesome; depends on how much my mother is flipping out about integrating the cats. If not, I'm free mostly all week. What are your hours?