Making Jokes and Wearing Black and Speaking English Just Like Me...

Lately, I've been listening to Jazz Butcher's "Angels" a lot, although I couldn't quite put my fingers on what actually made me grow so attached to it. Maybe it's the carefree insouciance that it imbues me with, maybe it's in the way it starts off with "Tomorrow's just another distance" and ends with that wishful plead of "I wanna hold you in my arms" that would make me long for you more than ever. Or maybe, it's something as simple as the multiple use of the phrase "wearing black" (5 times). Or that Jazz Butcher would quickly associate with Diet Butcher Slim Skin in my mind. Or, the combination of all the above.

Anyhow, I actually found my fascination with music from the 80's rather... fascinating, for lack of a better word. It is as if I am flitting through my own version of an arbitrage moment, by tuning out the present to derive pleasure from taking a glimpse into the world two decades before me, pleasure from transporting myself to a place that strangely seems romantic , idealized yet at the same time almost mythical and mystical, a place that would forever exist in the realm of the imagined and never of the inhabited in my mind and by being so, always pliable to the mold of my imagination, forever conforming to what I wish it could be, something that the here and now does not offer me most of the time.