The mix tape is dead. Especially the one when we were young and in love.
I remember those beautiful time-inspired and thoughtful choices picked out with decision and thought to tell the person you were mixing for - You mean something to me.
Like REALLY mean something to me. Without me having to tell you in an embarrassing way....."Hey!!! There!!!! Remember me???? I'm here. sorta."
Now, in my reminiscent 40's, I think of the old-fashioned mix tape and want to dedicate it to the people in my life right now.
It seems to me (and probably ONLY to me) that the lyrics mean a whole LOT MORE than they used to.... or maybe I just pay attention to those lyrics and wonder where they came from when they wrote them. It's not all about Vodka and fucking..... or maybe it is..... but that thought would be classless and pedantic. Something I think I am as of late.
Life is really more than that.
that stays intact.
Love and marriage. Such a hard mix-tape of emotions to continue to spin and keep fresh and alive. Some of the 'songs' are good, some bad, some plain uncomfortable. I've made my more than not-so-fair share of mistakes as of late. Then marriage IS between two people. It is much easier and simpler to throw that union to the curb and not fix it. Blame the other person for the shit that is happening without addressing the real problems.
Say, "Fuck it! I don't like you and you don't like me. I'm done! We so fucking hate each other."
Then, in your darkest moment of discovery and fucked up decision making, your partner surprises you.
In a way you never thought possible.
You self-flagellate and he absolves you even if you aren't worthy.
Like blinders were finally lifted from both of your eyes. Harsh reality, grief and balls-to-the-wall shit gets real. Like REAL real.
After anxiety and anger is finally aired to the crazy, wild, Oklahoma wind; real moments are shared. The wind blows away your nasty sins and brings forth an air of new realization. Real words are exchanged and heard with a new ear. Like the first time you hear a song and you just know, you are in love with it but you don't know why but you have to put it on repeat. Over and over. After thirty times of repeat, you are still not tired of that tune or verbiage that speaks to you.
How can you not be tired of that tune? You don't even like that artist....
It's like the song owns your soul and is the only thing who really knows you and understands you.
Right now, I feel like I am have discovered a lost mix-tape from my youth. One I forgot I had. I had to rewind the thing and carefully put it in the classic deck to listen to with care. Making myself remember why I loved those carefully chosen songs that were dedicated to me. Why it was so important for me to hear the words to something that spoke so personally from another.
Funny how you don't remember much of what you put on someone else's three-hour tape but they seem to remember. With detail and care.
Makes you wonder what the fuck happened to the old you and simple sentiment.
Makes you wonder why the fuck it all had to change.
Makes you wonder why the fuck can't we get it back?
Makes you wonder if you should make a new and improved mix-tape to chronicle a more relevant self than a twenty year old self.
Makes you wonder...... why it took so long to care about listening to that mix and the other finally opening their eyes as to why they made that tape in the first place.
Makes you wonder why we wasted so much fucking time.