I get sentimental about weird things. Songs are the biggest category, probably – there are more songs that can take me back than anything else. It’s not usually actual memories that come up, though; rather, it’s more likely a fantasy of myself singing that song at an appropriate point in my life. This happens all the time. It’s probably the biggest remaining way that I obsess about the past. I’ve gotten over the specifics of most of my awkwardness, social gaffes, and missed opportunities – I’m much happier in my own skin than I ever had hoped to be. Still, my fantasy life often revolves around having had some socially acceptable talent back in the day: singing, playing an instrument well (as compared to how I actually did it), the ability to communicate with my peers…the list goes on. Writing and singing music tops the list, though. I imagine performances of virtually every song I like, or what it would have been like to introduce that piece to the world. The fantasies I’ve constructed also feed my anxieties about actual performance (see this), though I’m getting very slightly better there.
In any case, this came up because “The Rainbow Connection” just popped up on my player while I was looking for something to write about. The first place my mind went was to put me in the place of the artist. I know, of course, that singing along and enjoying the music is part of what it’s all about, but I invest so much possibility and regret into songs this way that they sometimes drive me to tears for no good reason. The habit is so entrenched with some songs that I break at the opening chords because I wish so badly that the song had been mine. I barely have any conscious control over it, because the fantasy has been ingrained for years.
Again, I’m weird. Of course, were I normal, I wouldn’t be half as interesting.