After a dangerous combination of more than enough to drink and a string of perfect moments, I realized that my mouth was letting words escape before my guarded mind could stop them. There was this song on the CD player. A song from a CD I had mixed. It was like I created the soundtrack to my own perfect moment. And as fitting as it is for me to provide the music, it comes back to haunt me later when I play the same CD and have the same songs shoved in my face. The types of connections I make with songs are akin to the connection made between bumblebees and pollen. Or hyperactive kids and sugar. The deeply buried scientist in me tries to name this relationship: Parasitic? Mutualistic? These labels make no sense when I try to translate them from living things to a song. I know it sounds crazy. For a non-labeler, I sure do like to know what things are.
So back to my logorrhea. I can't remember what song was on*, but for some reason it was good enough for me to start spurting out sentences about how much I loved it and how can some songs be "that good". If it is possible for lyrics so perfect to just be made up. Does anyone really care, though, about my obsessive mindset when it comes to music? I guess I hope so.