I had a breakdown after listening to two albums by Swans in my poorly oxygenated room and after feeling feverish for a while I had to calm down and laughed making my brother watch the Darkness and Cold video (it's such a humorous video, even If my stomach twists thinking about the context, what happens next and all that, I think David's sense of humor was there until the end) but then YouTube suggested this:
I think it's a nice cover, although not even remotely as beautiful as the original (my love for Tanglewood Numbers is growing and growing these days, for some reason).
But the reason I'm writing this here is this: I have only listened to one song by Turner Cody. Just one. Back in my last year in middle school/first high school year. I used to listen to it while lying on my bed in the afternoon after school, or on the bus returning from the gym we used to have our physical education hours at and since I didn't use headphones at the time (for some reason I didn't want to damage my eardrums anymore, because I was traumatised by some pain I had experienced, having used an mp3 with big headphones since primary school) I used to listen to it and to a couple of other songs holding the microphone of my old wrecked first generation cellphone close to my ears (which after all was damaging anyway). I used to do this constantly, on every single bus drive we had that year (PE hours at the gym stopped soon after my first year as school funding progressively declined) and nobody ever asked me what I was doing or listening to (and why did I not use headphones). I was ill after all. I still am. The one single song by Turner Cody I'm talking about is this one:
and I guess you can see why I used to listen to it as much as I could.
Nobody gave me the reassurance, the hope and the love that songs gave me. Never. (Or at least, until these days, although I am beginning to understand the problem is my brain, which will never make me accept love from others, but that's another story)
