There’s life all around you. The cars that drone at packed intersections; they don’t care if you’re listening to them or not. Someone who aims a question; a “Hello” your way and watches it go unanswered might. These trivial, human disappointments might not make much difference in a world that’s turned a deaf ear. But it happens.
Genre: Heavy metal. A foghorn blaring in either ear. Walking stereos. The ones you hear before you see them—you know. They’ve incubated themselves in this artificial world where music exists in the place of voices. That may sound more dramatic than it needs to be, but there is a need there, and people need to be heard and seen, touched, and recognized. It’s natural. What’s unnatural is trying to communicate with a wall. When we don’t hear, we aren’t in touch with our surroundings. And if we aren’t in touch with our surroundings, we may as well not be there at all. It’s simple: Music is appealing and addicting and engrossing. It’s the human voice putting on a pretty dress, or a techno beat that you tap out with your pencil. But it’s not real. It’s a sound that would never, should never have existed. I’m just as in love with music as the next person, but I’m not about to admit that it’s done me any good besides perfecting my happy-dance and coaching me through a letdown or two. So maybe iPods are glorious, magical, impossible-to-live-without little devices. But plugging yourself into their universe, that symphonic, tunnel-vision world… you’re disconnecting yourself from the real one. Music has never gotten me through a break up solo. Music has never cheered for my team, or spent a Saturday night gossiping with me over hot chocolate. So yeah, music is part of my life. And maybe for some people a big part. But don’t let go of the people around you. Remember to dance and sing and hear the music, but this time don’t go it alone.