Category Archives: Weekly Mixtape.

“Like no other you can’t be replaced.” A Thank You Note, Of Sorts.

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With this being my 1000 post, I thought I should try write something of worth. Whether or not it is, well that’s a different subject entirely. It may make sense, it may just wind up being another nonsensical rant, which is usually is. I don’t need telling, I already know. As the end of 2012 approaches (or it may already have depending on your location) you see a lot of people taking to social networking sites declaring how the next year will be THEIR year or they are going to change. It irks me because, you can make whatever change you wish at any point. You announce these things but by the second week of January you hate yourself more than you ever did. Make life easier on yourself, and just carry on as normal. I say this, but I make life hard work for myself at times. It’s a fault, one of many.

I don’t like discussing my weight/how chubby I am because I’m not exactly a fan of myself. I could have easily been like most and said START OF THE YEAR I AM GETTING FIT. Over the past year and a half, I have been working on losing weight. It’s not easy. Fortunately, I really do enjoy going to the gym for a few hours and listening to music. I’d take a book with me but whilst on the treadmill I do look like a panic-stricken bear. When I go there, it doesn’t just get rid of my horrendous fat, but it clears the mind. I currently work at HMV, but it’s only a Christmas job. I love it. I bloody love it. For every grumpy customer, there is one that just makes your day. I’ve held up queues talking to people about bands, I’ve been hugged by customers because I helped them, I’ve had people sing to me then ask “do you have that one?” and the old favourite, “Excuse me..do you work here?” It is a brilliant job and those I’ve worked with are equally as brilliant. It was my third year there, and I think this year was my favourite. It just gives you a sense of pride and self-worth knowing you’ve helped someone. I must add, it is usually the older generation (60+) that are much kinder. Kids today are just rude really. Or maybe it’s the kids over here. I have no idea. Put down your iPads kids, and go take a walk. Use your mind. Come 5th January and I’ll be out of work, and on the Monday I’ll be taking that awful trip to the job centre to sign on. If you’ve never had your soul crushed and your dreams shat on; I suggest you go on the dole. If you want to be treated like dirt and have a wealth of self-hate upon you; go on the dole. My degree is useless, but I have no means of going back to uni. Of course in an ideal world I would have my own record shop, with a healthy selection of books. Later on I’d have my own publishing company. And finally, I’d be able to get a dog. These are hopes and dreams that maybe I’ll one day achieve.

We treat this time of year as a time of reflection. I don’t like thinking about the past, because it can sometimes make you debate what you want your future and present to be. Although, we cannot control the future. I firmly believe if something is going to happen, it will happen. I can relate this to the one I love. Many years ago, maybe something should have happened. Go forward five years and seeing her whilst in London during Pride (oh I know, but this one was alright so…) this year was truly the best thing to have happened. Part of my brain thought, “This could happen..somehow.” Every day since we have been talking, and FINALLY after waiting 5 years, this beautiful and perfect being is my girlfriend. I’m not a happy person naturally, but who is. But I finally know what sincere happiness and what true love is, thanks to her. It was always going to be her- and now it finally is. I’m working on trying to make her buy me a dog. Baby steps, I know. I know. It’s just lovely to be with someone who is full of love and kindness, and wants to change no part of me. Also means I get to spend more time in London too.

This year I have learnt that patience prevails. If you wait, it will happen. With reference to above, I can also link this in to music. Since 2009, I have been a huge fan of Crocodiles. They dragged me through a break-up, showed me a different (and better) world with their music and their lyrics claimed a part of my heart that needed claiming. I missed out on several tours, cue heartbreak and loathing wherever I was living at the time. 4th September they did a free gig at Rough Trade. Oh fate, how I love thee. I was already in London. I think I was staying for a week. I walked past Brandon and Charlie just outside Rough Trade. My stomach flipped. If I was 14 and mental, I may have chased them. Instead, I am a 26-year-old who gets tongue-tied most of the time. Their free gig at Rough Trade was a special moment for me. I paid no attention to anyone in the crowd. I don’t even think 100 hundred people were there. I sang to every song, I swayed and shut my eyes. I opened them, in awe and in shock of being right in front of the band that did more for me than they will ever know. Sadly, I was too much of a wuss to go up to them at the end and talk to them. Next time, I will. I vow to talk to them. About something, or nothing in particular.

My favourite music moment of this year has to be Dee Dee from Dum Dum Girls covering Just Like Honey by The Jesus And Mary Chain, just for me. Just for me. A nobody from nowhere. It started as a sweeping statement from myself on Twitter one evening. I was listening to Psychocandy, and just wrote on Twitter something like “Imagine if Dum Dum Girls covered Just Like Honey.” The next day I woke to a reply from Dee Dee telling me to email her. So I did. She replied telling me she would try to do a cover for me. A few months later, she emailed me the cover and wrote “For your ears only xx.” I do not think anyone in this world can understand what this meant to me, and still does. And yes, I did cry. I’ve been a fan for many years of Dum Dum Girls, and for this to happen just blew my mind. If I see them when they come to the UK, I just need to thank Dee Dee face to face for it. That’s all I can do. Their music has made certain events less shite, you know how it is. Coming Down is my go-to song. Rest Of Our Lives describes my love for the one I love. Season In Hell gives me hope and Catholicked brings me back to life.

This has gone on long. I think I’ve said too much, but I have more to say.

I’ve been freelancing for close to 7 years now, and I started this blog in 2008 as part of an Online Journalism module whilst at Uni. I think I was the only one in that class to keep up their blog. There have been times where I thought there was no point in writing. No point at all. There have been times where if, Writer’s Block was a person I would gladly thump it in the gut. But then I hear a song or find a new band, and my love is restarted and I cannot imagine me not writing. I just HAVE to do it. It keeps me going. I have never been paid to write. Never. No one has offered to do so. I’m not about money. I own nothing of worth. Material things mean nothing to me. My Docs have holes in them and I rip jeans more often than I should. I look like a 70s reject. I look like the lovechild of Joey Ramone and Patti Smith; if they ever had a child. I have had more job rejections than I can count, and each one is a kick in the gut. But a motivation to try harder. Although, I don’t know if I can try harder than I do. I’d love to write a book, but god knows what it would be about. Obviously music. I’ve always wanted to follow a band around and write a book about it (Royal Chant I am looking at you, and Warpaint.) The film, Almost Famous is to blame for that goal.

This year (and last) I’ve had many kind words said to me from bands, PR companies and record labels with regard to what I have written about them and their work. You cannot put a price on that. Of course I believe still, that the only person who reads this is my mum but hey. If you’ve got this far, then I’ll buy you a cup of tea one day. I’m easy to find, but please don’t look as you will be disappointed. This part is a thank you to all the bands that have got in touch with me, all the PR companies and record labels. You’ve made writing even more enjoyable. There are stand-out bands and labels I’d mention, but that wouldn’t be fair. You are all brilliant, so thank you.

I will always ALWAYS welcome new music from any genre, so please get in touch (olivia_cellamare@hotmail.co.uk) I don’t care if no one bar your mum knows you exist or if you’ve supported some household name on a lengthy tour. Music is music. Send it.

Don’t forget who you are, and do not let anyone tell you that you cannot do something. Or that your goals are stupid ideas. Freedom comes from the heart, goes up into the mind then is unleashed. Don’t make a prisoner out of yourself. It’s all okay. It’s going to be alright.

Big love. xx

“But this collision came mid-bloom.”

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The darkness is better than daytime. I don’t really like daylight. I don’t like things shining brightly in my eyes, yet I hate sunglasses and in the summer, I just squint and go partially blind. My eyesight is awful at the best of times. It makes everything much more interesting. Sometimes.

My thing about the dark, is for a while (when I was a child) I was terrified of it. Then I grew out of it, and it became something that didn’t trouble me anymore. I don’t mind it getting dark at 4pm, it doesn’t bother me. I think I enjoy it more than still seeing everything clearly at 8pm you know? Sure the summer is nice, but I just like the dark. I like listening to certain bands when everything is dark; inside and out. For example, I cannot walk about in the daytime listening to Burial. It has to be dark out. I have to either be on the bus home or just lying in complete darkness. The music he makes creates something in your mind like no other. Seventeen Seconds by The Cure (their best record) is not a record I can listen to during the daytime either. It has to be pitch black, just to get the true and tense atmosphere of the record.

I can listen to the likes of Beach House, Warpaint, Morrissey, Captain Beefheart anytime. It doesn’t have to be light or dark. It can be anytime at all. Warpaint aren’t a band I feel I can sit and listen to with anyone else around. Maybe because if the person didn’t like them or get it, I’d be a bit (a lot) distraught. Aside from Stars, I can listen to Warpaint anytime.

Nick Cave, I can listen to him constantly. Grinderman, The Bad Seeds, The Birthday Party. Any of it, all of it at anytime. Much like Bob Dylan and Townes Van Zandt. Most get lonely at night, but when you listen to certain songs you can feel lonely right there and then. Or maybe, you feel less alone. Music is such a powerful thing, and it can take you anywhere. It goes with you everywhere. I go to music before I go to a person. It is like a reference point or something. I’m not sure. This is so so badly written, and maybe I should say sorry. But I cannot say sorry if I am not. Do what you want.

The night-time is the perfect time to fix everything. Some fuck things up at night-time. You can do both. In whatever order you wish to do so. No one’s going to judge. And if they do? Whatever. Who cares. See, the night-time can also make you rant can’t it. Or maybe that’s just me.

I seem to be growing tired of writing. I have no idea why I do it. It’s not like any good comes from it, or anyone sees it or whatever. I do it, I suppose because a small part of me thinks I must. I probably shouldn’t. I’ll drag the writing about a bit longer. We can only go so far.

As it’s dark outside, thankfully; maybe these songs will indulge you in it a bit more.

 

“A hostage to kindness and the wheels underneath her.”

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I was thinking about something earlier as I was leaving the house to go the gym. My days off are spent there in the hopes I can somehow change how I look and stop disliking myself as much as I do. Self-hate doesn’t leave you, does it? Or maybe it does. Maybe I am set to loath myself in my 20’s so I can learn to like myself from 30 onwards. I’ve got 4 years left of this, maybe I’ll go against this theory. Or maybe I’ll give in to it. It depends. I use my stubborn ways for the wrong thing. Always bad, never good.

So this thing about self-hate. I dislike it when people say things such as “I AM SO VILE. I AM SO FAT.” when they weigh next to nothing. The worst kind put this on certain websites. No one really cares about how much you hate yourself. You see, I dislike myself but I’m not going to announce it everywhere for attention. In a way, I’ve just “announced” it but no one I know or whatever reads this so it doesn’t matter. I’m not doing this for pity or for anyone to say “You’ve got a good face. You’re okay as you are.” I don’t want that. I don’t want any form of attention. Good or bad. If I get a hair cut, please don’t notice. Just don’t pick up on it. Go look at something else. Like a painting; that’s much more interesting.

I don’t dislike myself because I’m a miserable twat. I just do. There’s no explanation to it; but I constantly work on trying not to. I don’t dislike myself as much as I did when I was a teenager or going back a few years. You have to take baby steps with things like that. I don’t go to the gym because I want the body of a stick insect. Far from it. I have in my head, a goal. I’ve not told anyone nor will I ever. I know a person’s weight or appearance doesn’t define them, but we live in a judgemental world sadly. I get constantly told to stop wearing black all the time. Am I going to? Am I fuck. I’d go out in my superhero pjs if I could (one of the many brilliant presents my girlfriend got me for my birthday.) but they’re a bit long and I’d trip up.

I thought that, the older I get; the less dislike I’d have for myself. To an extent I’m right. I doubt myself a lot, especially with writing. I don’t do it because I want someone to say I’m any good. I do it because if I thought I was good, I’d stop. Self-doubt isn’t always a bad thing. Sometimes it is the one thing that can make you carry on. It lasts longer than hope. I’ve never been good at much, and I don’t mean it in a bad way. Some part of me just doesn’t settle. Or maybe doesn’t want to. The thought of being in one place for the rest of my life makes me feel sick. Maybe this is because I’ve never really felt at home anywhere. Maybe I should work on that, or maybe it’s okay to carry on drifting through. I’m alright with being unnoticed. I don’t think my purpose in life is to be noticed. Why would I want that.

I think a lot of people think they’re not good enough, but surely if you surround yourself with people who make you feel inadequate then you are hanging around the wrong kind of people? I could be wrong. I could be right.

You’ll make friends and enemies on the way. You’ll have good days, you’ll have bad days. You’ll like yourself, you’ll dislike yourself. But NEVER any account must you let someone make you feel shit about yourself, ever. You can do that all by yourself, but it’s easier to understand and control. You don’t always have to walk with your head held high, sometimes the cracks in the pavement are much more interesting than your surroundings. You don’t stop learning. Time is a drag, and it seems like it is never on our side. Someone will love you even if you cannot stand yourself. You may not be able to understand how or why; but they do. It is there. They are there.

“Lately, I’m not the only one. I say, never trust anyone.”

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I know age isn’t important. I know it’s not a big deal, but when your 26th birthday is creeping up on you; you cannot help but think “what the hell have I done with my life?!” I know this will pass soon, and on my actual birthday I probably won’t even pay any attention to how old I am. I don’t look my age at all. I look like I probably should be in school. Youthful skin. Maybe that’s my Italian genes coming through. Or maybe it’s because I nap a lot. I have no idea. The key is to moisturise. Always. In the morning and before you go to bed. Look after your skin, and you too can look as if you should pay child’s fare on the bus. Skin tips from a scruffy bint. Enjoy.

Last year when I turned 25 I think I had a brief moment of “oh fuck I’m nearly 30 what have I done with my life?!” And I think it is going to happen again. I don’t know why because no part of me does things in the hopes of getting approval of anyone. I don’t wish for that ever. If that was the case; I’d just be like everyone else. I don’t make an effort to not be like anyone else. This is how I turned out. Whether or not its a good thing, well that’s undecided. Maybe as I get older I may tolerate myself a bit more. Maybe I’ll stop being cruel towards myself. However, if I get in first; it won’t matter so much when someone else does. But there are things others say/ do that probably hurt a bit more than if I was to pick up on it about myself. But, it isn’t worth the time. Not much is. Time. Time. Time. Ages us all, aches us all. Us.

I maintain an element of silliness to make sure I don’t age too much mentally. If I see someone trip up in the street (providing they are not bleeding to death or a pensioner) I’ll probably find it funny. I think most are like that. When you take everything too seriously, it all loses meaning. And we’re all trying to find meaning. Maybe we’ll never know. Maybe we do know, but still want to keep looking. The answers can come from looking outside or from your own reflection. Just depends on how deep you want to get.

So, as I approach 26 I do wonder if I’ve done anything of worth. I just don’t know. I really don’t. My life pretty much revolves around music and I guess I hold interviewing Warpaint as the best thing I’ve ever done. I’ve met and spoken to some of my heroes; and they say you should never do that. But I know of many who have done so, and it being a pleasant experience. I fully endorse meeting those who have changed you and saved you. Sure it’s mainly to do with music for me, but there’s about 2 people who I class as friends that have also done this. So maybe interviewing Warpaint may only be the best thing I’ll ever do. I have no idea. Or maybe it was that time about a year ago when I showed Shirley Manson a piece I wrote about Bleed Like Me on her Facebook page, and she read it. Then told me it made her cry. How many people can say they’ve made their role model/idol cry? I’m still trying to work out if I’m proud of that or not. I’m not sure. I feel bad about it, but I’m glad she saw it.

This seems far too self-indulgent and no doubt I will dislike myself for writing this down. But it is better than a drunken outburst on a pavement with friends moaning about how I’ve done nothing with my life isn’t it. Some things you need to spare others from ever seeing.

It’s just an age. It means nothing. Those kinds of things do not define who we are. I’ve also finished watching all of The Wire again for the third time. Still kind of wish Jimmy McNulty was my best friend or something. And I’m going to always be pissed that they killed Bodie and Omar. That wasn’t right.

Anyway, have some songs; if you’ve got this far. Here’s to the bands/singers over the past (nearly) 26 years that have been my crutch and saviours.

 

 

“Into the night as the stars collide, across the borders that divide. Forests of stone standing petrified, to be by your side.”

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Sadness is something that creeps up on you when you least expect it. Much like love, happiness and rage. Much like any feeling I suppose. There is something about sadness that hits you harder than most and is much more difficult to shake. Some people wish to wrap themselves around it and become self-centered (I don’t get that) and some manage to just carry on as normal. There’s no right, there’s no wrong. But most will say you are wrong. I’ve not felt sad in a very very long time. But I saw something today that reinforced just how horrifically sensitive I am. And how much I dislike it. I’d say it is a negative trait, but I don’t have it in me to be tougher than I am. I’ve tried, and I’ve even tried being cruel. I can’t do it anymore. It just seems pointless.

So today whilst walking home from the gym I saw something on the pavement that made me feel so sad, and quite sick. The way I walk to and from town is basically a country road. There’s a farm on one side, and when you walk past it you get a delightful stench of SHIT. That sure wakes you up when you walk past it. Anyway, this isn’t about the animal shit I get to smell every morning on my way to and from the gym. It’s about what I saw. Anyone who knows me even a tiny bit knows I adore animals. I’m one of those annoying twerps who has conversations with dogs, cats and rabbits, and is convinced they understand. If you have a pet, I will try to steal it from you. If you have a dog, I’ll make it my best friend. If you have a cat, I’ll hold it up and sing Circle Of Life to it. If you have a rabbit, I’ll attempt to steal it. That’s just how I am. Anyway, this morning walking back I saw a dead rabbit on the pavement..right next to me. At first I thought it was asleep, but I realised quickly that the poor bugger was dead. Thing is, it looked at utter peace.

I honestly have no idea what my point is with this. I probably don’t have one. I guess I just believe animals all have the same emotions humans do. Sometimes animals seem more gentle with each other than people do. The way some people are with each other is just disgusting. Have you seen how monkeys look after each other? If that doesn’t melt your heart; then something could be wrong with you. I wish people were more gentle and sensitive towards each other. Being tough is alright when you need to be; but not always. You don’t need to always be defensive, this is speaking from experience. You can’t let the past make you who you are. You cannot blame others for all that may be wrong in your life. Yet it seems easier doesn’t it?

The next person you scowl at or launch vile words at; think about it before you do so. How does this tie in with the dead rabbit I saw? I don’t know if it does. Maybe I wanted to write down how sad it made me seeing that. Maybe there’s more to it. Just be gentle. Be kind. There’s enough shit in the world, don’t add to it.

“Caresses and distresses all at once.”

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The uncool and the lonely trade nauseating stories about how hard it is; how leaving the house is a chore. How standing up rids them of energy, sitting down zones them out. Some kind of feeling takes them over. The find some kind of identity in the songs that cause others to feel as if their ears are bleeding. They feel like something full of shame. Full of shame, drained of devotion. How you seen it happen? A haunting glare is in their eyes. Maybe you’ve been this person. Maybe you’re getting there. There is always one person you fight to not be anything like that. Their traits make you feel ill. The things they’ve said and done are placed inside of you; you’ve let it go but it doesn’t let you go. It is frustrating because you are someone who doesn’t have a tight grip. But this thing…this THING has got a grip on you. You could call it a death grip, but you know it won’t be the end of you. For you know you’ll rise above it.

I mean, it is fairly easy to get sucked into something you despise, and turning your back on it also exhausts you. Self-exclusion is a sign of strength, but others don’t see it that way. But why should you care how others see it? Do what you want, always.

It is draining stopping yourself being like someone you cannot allow yourself to be. Sometimes someone says, “You’ve got their eyes” or “I’ve seen that look before from….” That shit crushes you, but you carry on. The only person who can stop you from doing anything or being anything is yourself I guess. Comments can put your self-belief in the ground. You seem to caress the bad and shun the bad. Why is that? Because the shit people say about us, that ruins us- is easier to believe. You’ll pull yourself above it at some point. Patience gets you further than anything else. As you get older, you learn that more than before.

Eternal youth starts inside. The lines on your face and the heaviness in your eyes are stories. Tell them how you want, but tell it from the heart.

“A confession’s not a cure. There’s always darkenss to endure, on the path to be redeemed.”

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Last night I went through all my stuff that I finally got out of storage. It had been in there for the past 11 months. It had been left in a place that I wouldn’t wish my worst enemy to go to (it must be added that I personally don’t have one, but I’m sure there are enough that hate me.) It was a place that’ll drain your soul and probably catapult your self-hate to a whole new level. I mean sure where I am living now does just the same, but I can hide from it easily. Places that ruin you cause you to go in on yourself. They also cause you to loath the skin you are in; but what can you do about it? Whilst I was going through all my stuff; I found some books that I’ve put to one side that I just need to re-read again. I’ve got a few books that I can read over and over again, and every time I do I find something else to love about the author and the book. Anyway, amongst all my stuff was an old mobile phone. I charged the phone for a bit, and I switched it on. My gut was saying “Why are you doing this?!” Turns out my head did the same too. So, I went through old messages. That wasn’t a smart move. But something clicked. Maybe all the texts from certain people were a lie; but things are different now. Maybe I had more than than I do now. Or maybe what I have now is a billion times better than it was. Truth is- I have nothing. I really don’t. I don’t mean this in a “woe is me” kind of way. Far from it, I’m not that kind of person. Self-pity is one of the worst things in the world. I mean, I don’t really hold onto things. So I went through some messages and turned the phone off. Sure it made me sad for a few minutes but then I saw some messages on the phone I have now. You compare the two and what I have now is more believable. I don’t know what it is, I may never know- but it’s working. It’s fine. I may have nothing going for me in a “job” sense but I’ve got other things that you cannot put a price on.

I know I am far too sentimental and sensitive for my own good. I know I need to toughen up; but if I did, that’d mean I was going against all I am and all I stand for. I don’t stand for much. Just the basic rule of being gentle and kind. That’s all I’ve got, that’s all I am. I feel like a boomerang and I need a home. I need something permanent. I’m nearly 26; I just want to settle anywhere but here. The year is nearly done, and I’ve done nothing of worth. Maybe I can change that next year. I tried to change it this year, but I didn’t get very far. Some of us are meant to succeed, some of us just waste our time trying. I need to figure out what I’m doing, but I feel sometimes that it’s too late. Should I have gone to uni? Should I ever have started writing? Should I start again? I have no idea. The only thing you can do is carry on in the hopes a solid answer just smacks you in the face. The things I want to do are constantly being shunned and told “oh you’ll never do it, you can’t do that.” In my head I think, “Fuck you.” But I just lower my head and carry on. What else can you do? I was told recently by a stranger, “The bands you love, they all started out with nothing and now they’re something. Use that.” A total stranger believes in me. Strangers are kind; they’re not all bad. She also said I had “lost eyes” but I’m not sure what she meant by that.

So anyway, my point is- leave the past in the past. It is okay to have self-doubt. It is okay to not be your biggest fan. It is okay to have shit days; but don’t forget the good ones. It’s okay to walk away and leave things/people behind because they probably didn’t realise you had gone anyway. To hell with what anyone tells you; do what makes YOU happy and for shits sake- put YOURSELF first because no one else will. Let them say you’re selfish if they must, but they’ve got it wrong. Try a different point of you, and be kind.

Beach House- Take Care.

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“It’s no good unless it’s real.”

Sometimes you hear a song that becomes everything to you. This song may come at a time where everything is wrong, and you just need something. Or, you may have heard the song in passing a few years ago, then something happens for you to love it even more. You associate it with a bad time, yet as time passes you, you can link the song to happier times. To a different person, to a different situation altogether. You feel quite foolish for not being so open to it in the beginning. Why on earth did it take something so horrific to make you truly get the meaning of the song? Well, the thing is we never really understand something or truly GET it until we have to face it. Until we are alone and need something to provide the answers. Seek answers, not approval. This one song is your ultimate crutch. This song is the one that makes you think of someone you love with all you have. Someone you want to protect. Is it the song that saved your life, or is it the song that gave you life? The song is your life.

I remember hearing Teen Dream by Beach House when it came out in 2010. I played it almost ritualistically. I regarded it in my soul as one of the best things to have happened in 2010. Every song felt like Alex and Victoria were delving into their souls, and into the listeners. It is a record that you play when you just want to find some inner peace. Beach House make you feel like you are in love even when you are loveless. Even when you are without all the positive emotions possible, they still feel you with such hope. Their music is like a massive warm cuddle to the soul. It is pure, innocent and wise.

Take Care is my ultimate favourite Beach House song. Close second is Saltwater. That’s as far as I can go with saying my favourite Beach House songs, because after these two songs- I’m pretty much in love equally with every single one. My love for Take Care was always there, it just came alive because of a really shit time.

Go to February 2011. I find out my mum has cancer (she’s totally fine now.) She flys over to tell me. I then go to my best friend’s house..and we cry. I never cry in front of anyone. I leave, get on the bus home and play Beach House. For some reason, Take Care starts playing. I try not to cry on the bus. No one wants to be that person crying on public transport, ever. EVER. So I keep it together. I get home. I’m still playing Take Care. The lyrics are becoming more and more apt. Victoria’s voice is easing the crying. I fall asleep listening to it. I seem to have to play the song every day just to keep myself as sane as possible. A few months after, I played the song for my mum. She’s now a huge fan of Beach House.

I now listen to the song with no sadness. The song reminds me of another. A totally different situation. But the sheer love and wanting to take care of them is there. It will always be there, and they know it.

What I love about Take Care is how simple yet wonderfully stunning it is. It isn’t just a love song. In fact, I don’t think it is a love song. I think the song represents the purely selfless act of wanting to place someone above you, and protect them. To just love them, be there and look after them. There’s only a few people in our lives we can dedicate such feelings to. When you find that person, that’s when you know everything bad you’ve done before, every bad feeling you’ve felt and every ounce of hurt that you’ve felt no longer means a thing because of this person. It doesn’t have to be in a romantic sense; it can be in whatever way you wish.

I can easily sit for hours listening to Beach House. I can quite happily have Take Care as the only song I listen to all day and not want to listen to anything else. A heavenly sigh comes out of you as you listen to it, because you know everything is going to be alright. Take Care goes beyond reassuring you. It becomes almost like a mantra. As you close your eyes and sway your body to the song, you feel yourself being transported elsewhere. All that is there is you and another. You choose who you want to take, and you dedicate this song to them. This song was written for them. A partner, a friend, a relative- it doesn’t matter. You just feel utter love when you listen to this song.

Then you have the flip side of it. When you feel low, playing Beach House makes you feel instantly better. Playing this song makes you feel like you can carry on. It is the piece of advice that you’ve been searching for. The song makes you feel complete, that you have enough in you to keep going. It is just a simply powerful song that makes you feel more than you can wrap your head around.

Take Care is easily one of the very few songs I know in 10, 20 years time I will listen to and still feel this way about. I’ll remember the day I first heard it. I’ll remember everything surrounding this song. It is the purest form of love and devotion. I think it is a song that everyone needs to have a moment with. Whether it be alone indoors or outside wandering around until everything feels better. You may feel lost, but Beach House always manage to find you and put you back together again. The heal you better than any form of medicine could.

Not everything in life lasts, not everything can leave you in awe. This is why I love Beach House, because they’re like no one else. Take Care is like nothing else I’ve ever heard, and may ever hear.

“We can all be free, maybe not in words. Maybe not with a look. But with your mind.”

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The connection you feel to a piece of music, or even a band has the power to be the most powerful connection you will ever know. That moment when you are alone and all you have is a song; that’s when it all takes over. You slip away from reality and fall into the unknown. Crawling out of it isn’t exactly what you want. And you place every desire on hold for a specific moment. These moments mean more to you than you have ever known. Have you ever truly known anything? Everything others give you has the potential to give you an aching heart and a swine of a headache. Push it aside, they’ll say you’re wrong. Deal with it, and they will still say you’re wrong. Ignore the fools. That pat on the back that crave had better come from you and nobody else. As they will not mean it; but you will. You truly will, because you will know you deserve it. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait.

Time is precious, so they say. So is patience and your own feelings. A lot of things are delicate but we seem to no longer handle with care. We are disposable with others, and it is frightening how cruel everyone is to each other.

Connection is important. You don’t have to feel like you belong, but you can help by making others feel welcome. Open your heart up for the right ones. The second someone holds what you say to them against you; walk away. Fast. Or run if you want. Just leave them alone. Bad people, bad vibes. You don’t need that. Find it in a song, find the trait you desire and move on. I have no idea where this is coming from. But it’s okay, because it isn’t something one should read. It is simply something one had to write down. I use “one” in the least upper-class way possible, I just didn’t want to use another word. And I like the word “one.” It stands for a lot, and can mean a lot. Even if it is a singular.

We can be alone in heart and mind. Yet, we can be free in heart and mind. Body also.

Find that connection.

“I’m the fury in your head, I’m the fury in your bed. I’m the ghost in the back of your head.”

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I was walking home from my morning ritual of slowly killing myself at the gym (it needs to pay off one day) and it began to rain. I already looked a mess, so what harm would a bit of rain do?

Everything in that moment seemed alright. Maybe it was the songs I listened to. Or maybe I knew I was going home, and I was going to nap. Sure it was a really shit nap, but I was going to be asleep. I like being asleep because I’m no trouble to anyone. I’ve gone back 10 years, I feel 15 again. It’ll pass. It must do.

Everything positive has something negative. Everything negative has something positive. Everything seems to be balanced, but you always find yourself leaning towards one side. Or maybe you are being pulled towards a side you cannot stand. Yet you must go there. Rock bottom is a lesson for us all. Does it exist? Is it just an idle threat to make us feel worse than we already do? You always think you’ve hit your lowest point, you think you cannot get any lower. Like things cannot get worse, but can they? They get better. They also can get worse. See, it is all balanced out.

So you close your eyes around 2am hoping sleep comes. It comes eventually. When you sleep, do you dream? Do you doubt yourself in dreams too? You don’t always get what you want- dreaming or awake. I hate that I function better when I am tired. When I am tired, certain things make more sense. When I’m awake, I think I usually want to sleep and watch Disney films.

Sometimes we make ourselves out to be awful. Maybe it is from past abandonment, maybe we’re not sure of ourselves, maybe we’re not truly awful. We’ve all got our faults, we shouldn’t let them rule us.

As I’m not one for ever listening to myself, have some songs that made dragging myself home in the rain a lot less awful.