I am in Stereophonics mode.

Next to Paramita and the OTH Friends with Benefit album, it's the Stereophonics I go to when I'm feeling sad, confused, awesome, or all of the above. I regret not having discovered them sooner. But, I'm glad too that I only got to appreciate them lately otherwise I would've attached their music to things of the past and certain moments of my present life wouldn't have had Stereophonics playing on the background.


That's one thing about me. I always try to put a background music on particular scenes in my life. As if everything is straight out from One Tree Hill or some other teenage drama show, a song is designated inside my head as a situation unfolds before my eyes. It's just automatic, like I have a permanent iPod on shuffle mode attached to my ears. I heard the opening riffs of Angels and Airwave's The Adventure as I received my high school diploma. Brighter Than Sunshine by Aqualung was playing in my head when I was walking from Physics to AS while holding hands with someone. And Meg from Hercules was pestering me all week last week with I Won't Say I'm In Love. It sounds crazy I know, but it's not as if I'm consciously assigning songs in my mind. Sometimes they just happen. And forever will that memory be emotionally involved with that song. Everything becomes clearer and worth-remembering because of a song.


Last Friday was supposedly the most eventful moment in my so-called love life (or lack thereof). A guy, a girl, a chicken-and-rice value meal, rain heavily pouring outside, a confession -- what could be more dramatic than that? And yet, the iPod inside my head failed me. It went dead. No epic piano riffs, no goosebump-inducing chorus, no melancholic final chord. Nothing. Just the noise of people around us, and the constant nagging of the voice inside my head.

The thing is, I get lost when certain key points in my life transpire and no song plays out. It's as if I'm grappling with what emotions to feel, what actions to carry out. I'm at a loss for words. It's so strange but I can't seem to feel anything without the right themesong on cue. So how was I supposed to pull it off without the proper song to back me up?

I was struggling. What to say, what to do, what to feel.. WHAT?
That one moment where I needed a song, that one push -- and I fell apart.
Whyyyyyy neuro-iPod, why?

Everything that happened was a blur. I can't even remember the exact details of that night anymore. All I know is that, that night was (musically) silent -- in my head, at least. If my life were a drama show and last Friday was the season finale, the screen just faded to black. No ending montage of scenes with a larger-than-life instrumental in the background. Nothing.


And then this morning I heard the familiar opening beats of Stereophonics' Dakota. Suddenly, the DVD player inside my head (yes there's an entire portable media system all cramped up inside my neurotic mind) started rewinding, and the whole Friday night started replaying in my head.. with Kelly Jones' vocals providing the perfect backdrop to the scene.

Closure. Or something close to it. That's what I feel.
The sting lingers. But now the healing can finally begin.




You made me feel like the one.

I am in Stereophonics mode.

Next to Paramita and the OTH Friends with Benefit album, it's the Stereophonics I go to when I'm feeling sad, confused, awesome, or all of the above. I regret not having discovered them sooner. But, I'm glad too that I only got to appreciate them lately otherwise I would've attached their music to things of the past and certain moments of my present life wouldn't have had Stereophonics playing on the background.


That's one thing about me. I always try to put a background music on particular scenes in my life. As if everything is straight out from One Tree Hill or some other teenage drama show, a song is designated inside my head as a situation unfolds before my eyes. It's just automatic, like I have a permanent iPod on shuffle mode attached to my ears. I heard the opening riffs of Angels and Airwave's The Adventure as I received my high school diploma. Brighter Than Sunshine by Aqualung was playing in my head when I was walking from Physics to AS while holding hands with someone. And Meg from Hercules was pestering me all week last week with I Won't Say I'm In Love. It sounds crazy I know, but it's not as if I'm consciously assigning songs in my mind. Sometimes they just happen. And forever will that memory be emotionally involved with that song. Everything becomes clearer and worth-remembering because of a song.


Last Friday was supposedly the most eventful moment in my so-called love life (or lack thereof). A guy, a girl, a chicken-and-rice value meal, rain heavily pouring outside, a confession -- what could be more dramatic than that? And yet, the iPod inside my head failed me. It went dead. No epic piano riffs, no goosebump-inducing chorus, no melancholic final chord. Nothing. Just the noise of people around us, and the constant nagging of the voice inside my head.

The thing is, I get lost when certain key points in my life transpire and no song plays out. It's as if I'm grappling with what emotions to feel, what actions to carry out. I'm at a loss for words. It's so strange but I can't seem to feel anything without the right themesong on cue. So how was I supposed to pull it off without the proper song to back me up?

I was struggling. What to say, what to do, what to feel.. WHAT?
That one moment where I needed a song, that one push -- and I fell apart.
Whyyyyyy neuro-iPod, why?

Everything that happened was a blur. I can't even remember the exact details of that night anymore. All I know is that, that night was (musically) silent -- in my head, at least. If my life were a drama show and last Friday was the season finale, the screen just faded to black. No ending montage of scenes with a larger-than-life instrumental in the background. Nothing.


And then this morning I heard the familiar opening beats of Stereophonics' Dakota. Suddenly, the DVD player inside my head (yes there's an entire portable media system all cramped up inside my neurotic mind) started rewinding, and the whole Friday night started replaying in my head.. with Kelly Jones' vocals providing the perfect backdrop to the scene.

Closure. Or something close to it. That's what I feel.
The sting lingers. But now the healing can finally begin.




You made me feel like the one.