Crashes into us
To die by your side is such a heavenly way to die"
There is such beauty in the misery of Morrissey, innit?
Cue Nick Hornby: "I advertise in the back of the glossy rock magazines, and get letters from young men, always young men, in Manchester and Glasgow and Ottowa, young men who seem to spend a disproportionate amount of their time looking for deleted Smiths singles and "ORIGINAL NOT RERELEASED" underlined Frank Zappa albums. They're as close to being mad as makes no difference." (High Fidelity excerpt)
Come to think of it, I watched Morrissey many, many moons ago with my friend Annie (who would go on to write music reviews for proper sources - in another life, I suppose that could've been my career as well). At that time I didn't understand all those going up on stage with flowers. Now I wish I could go back and re-live that concert, knowing what I know now.
But in any case, I am trying hard to remember all these sides of myself that I'm afraid might have gotten trampled on or starved in Singapore. That feeling that a song and an album could transport you, not just serve as the backing soundtrack to a life. Trying to remember the person I was, and can be.