The Nostalgia of Sound

The radio was filling the silence in my room with tunes, voices I wasn’t used to listenning to or recognized, no light was coming from the outside, so sunshine streaks couldn’t take over my room, instead sound sneaked under my chairs and surrounded me when I walked, followed me from one space to the other. I was never alone, literally feeling the vibrations of the music filling the air between closed book pages and drawers only opened for medical reasons.

I realized how many times I had let the sound of fingers picking on strings, and people pressing on their vocal cords enter my head through ears patiently waiting to be surprised.

I remember waking up extremely early in the morning and getting into my parent’s car. On our way to primary school I would watch life wake up on its terms, the sun wouldn’t even rise before I did! I watched it stretch out and yawn in the morning, as I would in the car. Somehow my parents always found the perfect timing to turn on the radio, right when the sounds of honking and people cursing at each other would get a little too loud for my small ears, music would burst out the radio. Funny enough I never remember my parent’s voices talking to me in the car, just the songs that would play, and how much I’d loved to hear them every morning. The same song would replay on so many days you feel like there’s something missing if it stopped at one point. When I hear a couple of tunes now they immediately remind me of every morning car rides, and the smell of my father’s coffee and my mom’s perfume wrapped in with a little stress of not being able to make it on time for class or not being able to wear my shoes right. Left shoe for left foot, right shoe for right foot, right, got it.

All that in mind and still the second a particular song makes its way into my surroundings my senses can’t help but heighten. That was the same song that played on my radio last night, on a frequency I wasn’t familiar with, I then realized it could have been the same channel my parent’s used to listen to in the car, the one I waited to hear every morning while I watched people great the day with a mix of stress and gratefulness. Only difference is now the words of that tune speak to me in ways I ignored when I was up to my dad’s waist in height. For the pure emotion and nostalgia of it all I let it consume me to tears, and I loved every minute of it.


The link to that nostalgia:

Je Suis Malade– Lara Fabian.




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