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Tuesday, January 10, 2012

the cure song.

Tonight was spent listening to different types of music as per usual, but since I was not thinking too much, thoughts came to my head all inspired by what I was listening to. I first looked up The Cure's classic, Pictures of You.

I thought of a bus ride back in late 2007. It was fall and it was raining. I was going down Highway 7 after a long day at the office. I was tired. All I wanted to do was to hit repeat on my Ipod and listen to Robert Smith sing. I looked outside the window of the Number 1 YRT bus and tried to tag the window. the F, A and E dropped slowly. I watched my tag slowly evolve into a drippy masterpiece as I pressed the repeat again and let my thoughts wonder. I repeated this motion a few times until I reached my stop. Good thing that the track is more than five minutes long. The LP version, anyway.I got off the bus and walked home. Said Hi to my Mother and went upstairs. Didn't bother with the computer or TV or even changing my clothes. Just wanted to hear Smith. Don't know why. Just did. I jumped on my bed and pressed play.

I felt empty in November of '07. It was the beginnings of my depression. Pictures of You is the song I associate with those days. Everything about the track made me feel alone, sad, dark but OK. OK with everything that was going on. Not even in that `I'll be OK' way but in the `It's OK' way. OK to feel like this. OK to feel dark and sad and alone. It was a suicidal person's comfort food. Remember walking home at night. Drunk. Barely able to keep in the tears anymore. I'd take a short cut through the park. I would sit on the swing and cry. Cry for a few minutes while I heard Smith sing. It was my medicine. Funny thing is, a song that was actually about depression, Everybody Hurts by the great REM, followed Pictures of You on my Ipod and I never found it soothing or comforting like Cure's track.

Some words do different things to different people.


Over the years, I've been able to listen to Pictures and smile. Appreciate what I went through. What I learned. What I overcame. How it made me stronger. There'll always be that little bit of me that goes back to the dark place when Smith starts humming, but that's OK. Because I'm OK, now.



If only I'd thought of the right words
I could have held on to your heart
If only I'd thought of the right words
I wouldn't be breaking apart
All my pictures of you


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