Hey all! I wrote a fictional story, in a sort of “choose your own adventure” fashion. I have linked all the music I referenced, and I encourage you to listen along with the story! I do think you need a Spotify account to access the links, so you can always search up the songs/albums too. The links are before the paragraph itself, so start listening, then scroll down to the specific paragraph. There are three different endings, hopefully you enjoy!
I was awoken by the sound of “rock n roll” by Dijon.
This song is a personal favourite, filled with some of the best vocals around. This was my usual 8am alarm, but today it was set for 10:47am. As my eyes adjusted, I scanned my room. My sunburst guitar sat elegantly in her stand. Yesterday’s outfit (black baggy pants and my custom-made pink crop top) was sprawled on the carpet, and my record player laid waiting for me to say good morning. On this mild spring quarantine morning, I had all the time in the world. There was no one rushing me, there was no one leaning on me like I once leaned on her. Today is a day for me. I walked over to my record player in my bright blue underwear, and stared at my record collection. What to play this morning?
For “Japan” by Worst Party Ever, go to paragraph 2.
For “Girlfriends” by Girlfriends, go to paragraph 4.
2. One of my all time favourite albums. Raw lyrics, emotional stories. It was also one of her favourites, and it always left me feeling sad. Maybe today was a day for emotions. I walked past my messy floor back to my bed, and grabbed my king sized fuzzy blanket. I sprawled it out, and proceeded to roll myself into a tight burrito. I was going to stay here for a while. Living alone during quarantine can be very taxing and lonely, I had discovered. CERB and excessive caffeine can only take one so far. She used quarantine as an excuse to break up with me without warning. We had been together for two years, and had relied on each other far too much. Or maybe that was just my problem. It’s only been a month, but I still hold on to that memory of us dancing under that one streetlight, the one that she always used to stare at, the one she kissed me under so passionately with her big boots and black jeans and cute shirt and soft lips and soft hair. My eyes filled with tears, just in time for the static of a completed record to bring me back to reality. Time for some coffee, I suppose. I propped myself up, unravelled my emotional burrito and threw on a hoodie and pyjama pants. Time for a new album.
I decided to play “What It Takes To Move Forward” by empire! empire! (i was a lonely estate).
Everyone goes through an emo phase, and while I am mostly out of mine, midwestern emo music keeps me coming back. A natural progression from Worst Party Ever’s acoustic, personal lyrics, this album keeps me in a sad state, but with a full band to comfort me by my side. They also have amazingly personal lyrics, and I find myself grooving along to the sadness. As I booted up my old, worn out coffee machine, I felt an immense pressure build in my chest. Looks like today really was a day for me, a day for me to feel overwhelmingly anxious. Anxiety and caffeine usually make a great combo, they complement each other. Feeling like this was not unusual, given the amount of time I had been spending at home, alone, without her. I wonder often if other people are in the same boat as me, one stranded at sea, one without love. Quarantine was really beginning to deteriorate my mental health. Why do I always have to be so dramatic? Why can’t I reach out to the ones I love, and tell them how I feel? What is it like to try, to love? Why can’t I be that attractive man from the movies? The sweet one that gets the girl, that isn’t phased by loss, the one that is confident with himself. I feel my brain swelling. Not with great learning, but with great sadness, with great anguish. It swells, swells, swells, and it finally bursts. In a firework display, my brains splatter on the wall behind me. My un-sipped coffee spills all over the floor, creating a tie-dye style stain on my grey hoodie. My body collapses, and is finally free of tension. I am no longer alive, but no longer trapped. Sometimes, it feels best to get out, no matter the cost.
Ending 1 completed!
4. A classic pick. My “get shit done” album. 30 minutes long, full of catchy riffs and quality production, especially for a 2009 album. I’ve always considered it ahead of its time. I cleaned my surroundings faster than ever, and was in the shower by the time “Yeah!? What’s it Tuba!?” had barely begun. Today really was a day for me, a day to almost feel as though I wasn’t trapped within myself, trapped within the confines of my home. Post shower, I grabbed my Scooby-Doo beach towel to dry myself off (towels were much more expensive than I had anticipated). I wrapped it around my slim waist, and proceeded to shave my week-long scruff. I shaved with the precision of a blind archer, and cut my face repeatedly. Nothing new here. With toilet paper stuck to my face, I went to make myself some coffee. I opened the window, and could taste the spring air. The sun was out, birds were chirping, and I swear I even saw a squirrel run across the fence, with a face full of nuts, preparing for the cold months ahead. The day seemed almost too perfect, and I couldn’t miss the opportunity to go outside. Today was a day for me, after all. I poured my coffee into my teal travel mug, put in my dangly sun and moon earrings, threw on the same outfit as the day before, and set out on my grand adventure. With my earbuds in, it was time to pick something new to listen to.
For “Cerulean” by Baths, go to paragraph 5.
For “Crumbling” by Mid-Air Thief, go to paragraph 7.
5. A perfect introduction to the world of glitch pop. Experimental music that focuses on stylistic production, clashing rhythms and catchy melodies. It takes pop music to an almost surreal level. I lock my door behind me, and begin my adventure in the outdoor world. It feels different than when I was out last. The air is too clean, the sun is too bright. Must just be my lucky day. A short two minutes from my home lies a park. A paved walking path surrounds a playground, filled with wood chips and bright blue, yellow and red play structures. I used to play in this park when I was younger, when times were simpler. Now it is a symbol of how quickly things can change. It is surrounded by caution tape, to prevent the spread of the virus. It seems that even parts of the outdoor world are locked down. I approach the park, and walk a lap around the playground, staring. The perfect, gleaming sun follows me as I walk, keeping my body warm and my brain busy. I notice not a single other person around, one time down the slide wouldn’t hurt anyone, would it? My Doc Marten covered feet take off, and I run through the caution tape like a first place marathon runner. Today was my day to win. I approach the bright red swirly slide, and throw myself down. Five seconds pass. Ten seconds pass. Thirty seconds pass, and I am still swirling down the bright red slide. After an unknown amount of time, I am knocked unconscious, and my limp body is finally ejected from the bloody mouth of the slide.
I am awoken by a screeching from my earbuds. With my eyes still closed, I rip them out, only to hear “Republic of Rough and Ready” by Hella playing around me.
It is coming from every direction. Whoever made this choice made a great one. Who doesn’t love some Zach Hill drumming and unreplicatable rhythms after being unconscious? Upon opening my pale blue eyes, I notice the world has changed. The overly bright sun has turned swirly slide red, and the elegant scenery has faded to dull versions of its original self. Not only have the colours changed, but upon looking down, I notice that I am now standing on what once was the sky, with the sun below me. The playground sits high in the sky, replacing the sun. And to think, today was supposed to be a me day, a day to get out of the quarantining for just a little bit. Beats me for leaving my place, I suppose. Relatively unphased, I walk on the sky towards the sun. Its deep red truly is captivating. It has some sort of pull, like when you see the one you love smile at you. You can’t just walk away from that, now can you? It gets warmer as I approach, and my pink jaggedly cut crop top evaporates off my body. I do not notice the heat. I find myself ten feet away from the burning red ball, all skin melted off my body, all scenery turned white. I am but a skeleton in a box of white, but I still feel unique. I guess this is what it feels like to take a day for myself.
Ending 2 completed!
7. This South-Korean dream pop album is perfect for any adventure. You won’t be able to understand any lyrics (unless you speak Korean), but the immaculate production and one of a kind melodies and beats will make up for it. I venture into town, strolling past the closed shops and empty parking spots. There are few people on the street, and I smile through my mask at those I pass. It really does feel nice to get outside for once, I should do this more often. I reach the end of the downtown, and approach a beach. It is small, and covered in fine, grey sand. The waves crash up against the shore in a polyrhythmic fashion. There is but one person on the beach, reading on a picnic blanket. They have lovely black hair that flows down to their mid back, and they are dressed in baggy jeans and a baggy sweater, hiding their curves. Without seeing their face, I know they are beautiful. I position myself on the bench near them, my awkward self not wanting to approach them directly. I have nothing to read but my feelings, and they read them too. Without consent, my feelings become words on their open book. I hear a giggle, and they get up and pack their things. They walk over, leave their book with me, and walk away.
I walked home immediately afterwards, book in hand. I busted through my own door, and threw on “ART SCHOOL CRUSH” by NNAMDÏ.
Not only was this song relevant to my increased, love struck heart pounding, it’s also just a fantastically funny, but groovy, song to listen to. I was convinced this was a message for me, they read my feelings after all. They were bound to have left me a deep, emotional message confessing their love for me. I cracked my knuckles, successfully cracking eight out of ten of them, and flipped open the leatherbound book. Blank. Every page was blank. I flipped through the book over and over, looking for something I had missed, only to be comforted by the same blank pages. Well, so much for a grand adventure it seems. I threw the book on the counter, ripped off my black baggy pants, and proceeded to sit on the couch. I wrapped myself up in my king sized fuzzy blanket, and moped the night away. I guess this is why I never go out anymore.
Ending 3 completed!