A warped nostalgia…

Music is art. To me, art has one highly important function. Art should make you feel. It should open up a part of you. It doesn’t matter how, but it should. It could make your heart feel like its been twisted with a spaghetti fork or it could make you want to jump for the sheer joy of life. A lot of the eighties music I listen to, specifically Queen, appears to have the spaghetti-fork effect on me. I cannot even begin to fathom why, but in my mind the music and the stage presence of this band is the most beautiful of artworks. The way Freddie Mercury would dance around signing his heart out, Brian May’s crazy  hair and his intense concentration as he pours out amazing tunes on his guitar. The passion I feel radiating off their music is overwhelming and so extremely fascinating. Perhaps I am just an overly emotional little girl, but anything which can cause such a heightened sense of emotion and wonder is, to me, truly and utterly beautiful.

So, have decided to come out of the closet. Not THAT closet. The closet which I call the ’embarrassing fangirl closet’. I appear to have developed a massive celebrity crush on Freddie Mercury. Now this falls into both the second and worst category of crushes (those being ‘gay’ and ‘dead’).

I’m pretty much convinced that Queen is the greatest band of all time.

Due to this crippling crush of mine, I have spent an awful amount of time not only listening to Queen, but also watching their gorgeous music videos. Repeatedly. This has led me to spending hours viewing the videos of many other bands, all of which seem to be from some magical bygone era. All the magic of the seventies and eighties then proceeds to bubble out of me into inexpiable tears and heaps of gooey nostalgia (and yes, that is a perfectly scientific and very accurate description). This is just Slightly crazy, considering the fact that I was only born in 1997.  I do not quite know how to describe it. This can not be described as nostalgia, because that implies that I have had those experiences and that I miss them. It is rather a case of the deep regret and disappointment I feel at not having experienced those occurrences. Heart-breakingly, I am a sixteen year old girl who exists far from that era. Sometimes I believe I was born into the wrong decade, and that I would have been far happier in an older world.

P.S. This post was extremely difficult to write. I have been logging into WordPress in a terrified state every couple of days, attempting to write some and then trying to figure out how to stick everything into the right order. I’ve been coming back here day after day, slowly but surely building up to something which I hope vaguely resembles a real post and not just the ramblings of some teenage nut-bag with an internet connection. For some reason this is a topic I feel rather strongly about, and this makes it difficult to write about. On the plus side, I do believe that the torture I put myself through to produce this post was worth it and I managed to spew out something of some quality for the Bottomless Void of the Internet to feast on.



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