A song speaks to me. |
To get back or not get back, that is the question; for I am listening to the Beatles’, Get Back this night, when the song suddenly speaks to me directly, using my name, putting it in right after, ‘Back’ as if I am being given some cogent advice. And so I muse: to get back or not get back; again that is the question. Now whether it is nobler in the mind to assume the reality of this outré experience, or to take up Xanax and Prozac against it… that is what I must sort out; I can choose to accept this musical advice, yet then I’d have to determine just where I would get back to, and also where I was in the first place. A catchy tune thus, a good beat, an uplifting song and part of our culture, more or less. An essence of my generation for sure. Still, I wonder: hearing one’s name in such a famous song compels me to consider hallucination…am I hearing things? Well, yes, I am hearing all right, but am I hearing correctly? More prosaic, am I hearing it because my brain says so, or is it real in the objective sense? If a song plays on the radio, does it speak my name simply because I hear it? Perhaps it’s due to unrequited love, or undigested sauerkraut. Is this a song of hope, a song of advice, or is it one of troubles? And if so, do I take up arms against it? Paul sings smartly, with élan, with passion yet maybe ‘tis another Beatle singing my name for effect, as a touch of creative flair. Maybe Ringo. Does this melody mock me gladly, as if sleep is reality’s amphitheater, as if waking hours are mere apparition? Perchance to dream. 40 Lines Writer’s Cramp 8-25-16 |