Every time I hear John K. Samson sing “the best parts of lonely” in “Left and Leaving” I feel warm and fuzzy inside, a feeling that has not shown itself very often in the past years. Music used to be such a great part of my life, but now I barely ever find myself checking out new artists, making playlists, getting all excited about a show, singing at the top of my lungs, bothering to leave the house or even buying new records. Some may say this is growing up, some may say depression removes the pleasure from all those things that you used to love and made you who you are. Either way, it is something that I need to get back into, and this blog is a part of that plan of mine.
For me, the best parts of lonely are sitting down with a warm cup of tea and a good book, dancing around the living room singing to my favourite songs, knowing that–no matter how sad I feel–my mood can be lifted by a certain song, re-watching my favourite films for the millionth time, pondering whether I could spend an entire day talking in Clueless quotes (probably), writing about those things that make my heart beat faster, planning the next adventure and making playlists to match my mood.
There was a time I used to do all those things and they made me happy. I want to get back to that time.
This is one of my favourite songs. It takes me back to a warm summer night in 2006 when everybody I cared about was around, life seemed exciting and John K. Samson sang this song with a smile on his face. It was as close to perfection as it gets.
It brings me back to autumn 2007 when I had just left the city and the boy I loved to move back with my parents. I remember listening to it and thinking “at least I went through it, at least I have those memories”. Sometimes I’d get goosebumps listening to it and sometimes I’d just break down in tears. When I went back to the city (and the boy) it was to see The Weakerthans together.
It takes me back to late 2009 and early 2010 when I was living in the wrong place and had made some very bad decisions. Listening to it reminded me of where I wish I was and who I wish I was with. It made me terribly sad, but I couldn’t stop doing it. I would listen to it compulsively and think about how much I had fucked up and how, sometimes, what we think we want isn’t what we actually want.
Now it just makes me feel thankful that there’s somebody out there who made such beautiful and meaningful music, and that the song is no longer full of negative connotations for me. I can’t think of a better song to name my blog after.