French music makes me cry, it makes me feel nostalgic for something that I can’t quite put my finger on. I think I feel nostalgic on my mom’s behalf!
When I listen to French music such as Georges Moustaki or Charles Aznavour or Edith Piaf I feel like curling up in bed and staring at the walls and crying, not necessarily miserably, but just crying over the youth that has gone and can never be given back. Youth, what a powerful word. Youth means life, beauty, passion, energy, creativity, future, emotions, hope, time…
I really suck at getting older. I want to stay forever young. There I said it. I want to be 29 forever. 29. Amazing age. Mature yet young. I know one can be young at heart and in spirit at any age, I am like that, but it’s different when you’re really young, not like pretending you have not grown up. There’s a difference between being 29 and young than being 39 and young. 29 young is different than 39 young. 29 young means healthy hair, perfect smile, a non-aching body!
Looking at Bob Dylan now and listening to his music that has span decades makes me sad. It is like he’s a tree that is now turning yellow and leaning over and slowly withering! I am not saying that he’s getting older and he’s dying, but the difference between Bob Dylan in 1961 and Bob Dylan in 2010 (just like any other human being) is hard for me to understand. Why do people grow old?? Why can’t we just freeze at one age, an age of our choice?
I hate drama. Life is drama, whether we like it or not.