I’ve been listening to a lot of music lately. Like a lot. Playing songs on every Amazon device at once so it plays no matter what room I’m in. It keeps the house from being so quiet. Something I’ve noticed, though, is that I somehow find a way to make every song about my situation. Some of them are easy, like Tool’s Schism. Some, though, I find a way to stretch it to fit. It got me thinking.
Most of the music I listened to growing up was angry or depressing. At the time, it felt right. Those songs were written about me, about my struggle. Those bands knew how I felt. Now, though, I wonder if maybe they made me feel like that. I wonder if those songs, those themes, somehow shaped my thinking or, at least, kept me thinking and feeling like that.
So today, when I get home, I’m going to change my soundtrack. Per the suggestion from therapy, I’m developing a plan to cope with the experience of walking into the empty house. When I walk through that front door, the words out of my mouth are going to be “Alexa, play Great Day to be Alive by Travis Tritt.”
I may not believe it, but it might be worth pretending I do.