My Pink Floyd happiness

This poster hangs on my dinning room's wall

It is that kind of night you feel like escaping from reality, but you have no idea how. Some people tend to cook, some choose to make love, the others including me, listen to music.

A friend told me that music is one of the languages everybody could understand without translation. The rest of them are cinema and paintings. It is amazing how people unconsciously leak out their mental state or current activity when they listen to music.

Like my former flatmate, Mr. B, who had a regular pattern of music playing. When his iPod sings Miles Davis, I knew he is at his slumbering form; when Air is filling the air, particular the album Moon Safari, there must be a lady lying next to him, or not just lying. He claimed that Moon Safari is the best album ever for love making. He even encourages me to try it out. But the result remains subjective, though.

In particular, when Pink Floyd was rolling, I would know the fact that he's travelling, without actually leaving the room. Until now I still have no clue where he went, but at least one thing is certain: I could safely say joy writes on his face after each Pink Floyd journey.

Thus I start listening to Pink Floyd as well. Surprisingly, it brings me to several places when I close my eyes. I seem to see my childhood, my future and somewhere off the earth.

Maybe it's like what Pink Floyd sings:

“When I was a child

I caught a fleeting glimpse
Out of the corner of my eye.
I turned to look but it was gone
I cannot put my finger on it now
The child is grown,
The dream is gone.

I have become comfortably numb.”

The truth is, I never successfully escape from reality. Not even once. Reality stays with me and grows massive enough to wrap me in without letting me detect its existence.

Pink Floyd is not a cure to tackle this, anyhow, it gets me out of comfortable numbness. I feel pain, feeling like crying.

Yet, I also feel alive and happy.