Don't be Sad

I’ve found the best music between the times of 12:00 AM and 6:00 AM.

Some of the music I like best sound full of grime, hiss, and pops. It’s comforting, for me, to hear a crack in the voice and the warble of emotion. This could be the romantic in me, but I am pleased to be reminded that a human being is on the other side of that recording. Just like a human being that is writing this.

A human being that cries hard, laughs with saliva dripping from their mouth, and rolls their head into their pillow with frustration. The weirdness of being human. I want to hear that. It softens the reality of my weirdness, or at least, gives it some sort of purpose.

The weirdos are out there.

A dateless night, still soaked in the days heat.

It’s 2014 in the attic-room of a very old house that I’m managing to live in, rent free, with my boyfriend.

The darkness is thick but the glow from the computer sheds a sickly light on my face. If my boyfriend were awake, I might care about my posture or my neanderthal like expression as I gawk into the window of the world wide web, but we’re past caring at this point.

I believe in guilty pleasures. The unexceptional teen drama, The OC, is one of those for me. But iI’ll be damned if that show didn’t have a killer soundtrack. I was revisiting the long ago cancelled box set. When I first heard that soundtrack, my 12 year old mind took away artists like Modest Mouse and Death Cab For Cutie.

Now (then) at 18, I hear this:

Don’t be sad I know you will.

But don’t give up until…

True love will find you in the end.

Beck, a familiar voice.

I throw the words I can pick up on, into that window of the world wide web. But I forgo Beck and find the man… the boy… who first wrote and performed it to an 8 track in his bedroom. 1980 something.

Daniel Johnston.

He’s manic. He laughs with hysteria. He bounces between a rigid and limp hand to strum at his guitar, I can almost see him furrowing his brow, and closing his eyes:

Only if you're looking can it find you
'Cause true love is searching, too

But how can it recognize you
If you don't step out into the light, the light.

Be it love from a lover, or love of yourself, it’s a message unobstructed by pretentious ego.

Daniel is heavy, and light, and he gets these things just right, in a way I might’ve never thought to say it. Whether it’s talking about Walking The Cow or Playing Cards With Satan, I feel like I need to reach my hand out through space and time to hold that weirdos hand. In his room. In the 80’s. Alone. But maybe… not so misunderstood.