I wish I was the moon tonight

This is my current playlist, right now I pretty much just listen to it on shuffle over and over again:
Xavia, The Submarines
The Only Living Boy in New York, Simon & Garfunkel
Salome, Old 97's
Calender Girl, Stars
You, Me and the Bourgeoisie, The Submarines
A Better Son/Daughter, Rilo Kiley
Dressing Room Walls, Old 97's
Easy Hearts, Whiskeytown
People's Parties, Joni Mitchell
Midnight Coward, Stars
With Arms Outstretched, Rilo Kiley
Young Pilgrams, The Shins
More Adventurous, Rilo Kiley
Mayonaise, Smashing Pumpkins
Modern Romance, Yeah Yeah Yeahs
Bar Lights, Whiskeytown
Old Shoes (&Picture Postcards), Tom Waits
I Wish I Was the Moon, Neko Case
Good Feeling, Violent Femmes

You might be wondering why this is important information. It's not (I mean it is, as much as anything on this blog is important information) except that if you really wanted me to, I could go through each of these songs and pull out the lines that could be (or have been) potential blog titles. In other words, songs that I relate to, songs that are me right now or some that are me always. I'm the type of person that reads a lot into what people listen to so I'm letting you do the same to me right now.

There are songs or albums that evoke memories so strong that sometimes I can't bear to listen to them. "Summertime" performed by Janis Joplin will always be one of my favorite songs, but it reminds me so much of my father that I can rarely listen to it without being on the verge of tears (or in private, full out bawling). The entire album "Sea Change" is easily within my top 5 albums of all time, but I can't really listen to it without my heart breaking.

Of course there are songs that remind me of middle school dances that I still don't know how I know all the lyrics to, there are songs that remind me driving with my father along the coast on days warm enough for the windows to be all the way down, songs that remind me of staying up late cooking with Lara and Corina, songs that were once "our song" in various relationships, songs that I can only listen to if I can also sing along at the top of my lungs, songs that I forget that I love until they come up on shuffle, but mostly, I listen to the songs that either drown everything out or the songs that almost hurt a little too much to listen to, the ones that touch a little too close to home. I either want something so strong I can listen to it until I can't feel feeling any more or something in which to drown my sorrow in.

Music is questionably my alcohol.