Can't really say that I have one favorite song. I usually go through periods of listening to the same songs on repeat, rediscovering old songs, listening to them on repeat. Ad infinitum. This entire process is closely tied to my mood for those days or weeks [See: the impact of 2NE1 on my life]. Perhaps, instead of my favorite song OF ALL TIME, I shall just mention my favorite among what I have been listening to as of late.
寻找玛依拉 / Searching for Mayila
The singer 西域刀郎 is looking for the girl that he had met a few years before, who mysteriously left him after inspiring him with tales of other 刀郎 (plural). In a Western Chinese (think almost-Central-Asia) style, 寻找玛依拉 reminds me of open plains and hazy dusks (and dance rehearsals by myself that one summer). I've been attached to this song since I first heard it in my middle school years, and every time I listen to it, I am rendered somber and Staggeringly Soulful (Mozart Season). In high school, I had the album in my car at all times (it's still there actually) as a sort of Lone-Rider-Heading-Off-To-Another-Challenging-Adventure anthem in the mornings. In the afternoons, it was an invitation to go home to my family and a ward against the loneliness after another battle (Read: Coastal Texas High School Bands That Take Themselves Too Seriously).
Also, it's wonderful to belt out and pretend-rockstar to.
A close second:
Hang on Little Tomato (Or basically anything from Pink Martini)
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The Tale of the Gluttonous BFG
As I was crossing the street on my way home from work today, I saw a beautiful, bright, innocent, lovely beacon of hope in the middle of the dirty sidewalk. A sweet lady and her daughter were vending Girl Scout Cookies. I had previously seen other such mother-daughter groups swamped in ravenous, non-penny pinching college student crowds, but passed them by. But this time, I wanted to stop for two reasons. To try the new mango flavor. But more importantly, the little girl.
There are several types of little girls. Most adults love to adore the little ones who are precocious delights of wide-eyed sweetness. I was not such a girl. Mostly, I loved to live in my own world where I was the princess, the captain, the puppy, the witch - among many other things. The little girl I saw before me was just like that. Wearing a cat beanie, pink hoodie, turquoise shirt, skirt, and leggings, spinning in the light drizzle - she was the perfect image of my childhood. Enjoying herself in her own world. Whilst doting Mother watched on. Perfectly content.
So I stopped at their cookie wagon.
And purchased not just a box of the mango ones.
I don't know what quite to do. I have a feeling that I don't really want to eat the second box of cookies. Certainly not as much I just wanted to interact with a reflection of my childhood.
[She said that she liked my backpack!!! Occasionally, I like to daydream about time travelling to visit the past me. How she would perceive me (hopefully with admiration). What I would tell her (usually words to give that girl some well-deserved confidence)]
I came home with what felt like the sweetest smile I've tasted in ages and promptly almost-wept when retelling the story to Roomie.
She says that I've dug my own hole and jumped right in (perhaps a grave?). But I would gladly dig it again if I had to choose again.
That was the story of the gluttonous BFG.
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TL;DR?
寻找玛依拉 / Searching for Mayila
The singer 西域刀郎 is looking for the girl that he had met a few years before, who mysteriously left him after inspiring him with tales of other 刀郎 (plural). In a Western Chinese (think almost-Central-Asia) style, 寻找玛依拉 reminds me of open plains and hazy dusks (and dance rehearsals by myself that one summer). I've been attached to this song since I first heard it in my middle school years, and every time I listen to it, I am rendered somber and Staggeringly Soulful (Mozart Season). In high school, I had the album in my car at all times (it's still there actually) as a sort of Lone-Rider-Heading-Off-To-Another-Challenging-Adventure anthem in the mornings. In the afternoons, it was an invitation to go home to my family and a ward against the loneliness after another battle (Read: Coastal Texas High School Bands That Take Themselves Too Seriously).
Also, it's wonderful to belt out and pretend-rockstar to.
A close second:
Hang on Little Tomato (Or basically anything from Pink Martini)
Overheard this song while at a trendy, hipster-yet-fancy furniture/clothing place. If I didn't recognize it, I would have just thought that it was hipstery-cheerful elevator music. But I love it and my little tomato regardless.
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The Tale of the Gluttonous BFG
As I was crossing the street on my way home from work today, I saw a beautiful, bright, innocent, lovely beacon of hope in the middle of the dirty sidewalk. A sweet lady and her daughter were vending Girl Scout Cookies. I had previously seen other such mother-daughter groups swamped in ravenous, non-penny pinching college student crowds, but passed them by. But this time, I wanted to stop for two reasons. To try the new mango flavor. But more importantly, the little girl.
There are several types of little girls. Most adults love to adore the little ones who are precocious delights of wide-eyed sweetness. I was not such a girl. Mostly, I loved to live in my own world where I was the princess, the captain, the puppy, the witch - among many other things. The little girl I saw before me was just like that. Wearing a cat beanie, pink hoodie, turquoise shirt, skirt, and leggings, spinning in the light drizzle - she was the perfect image of my childhood. Enjoying herself in her own world. Whilst doting Mother watched on. Perfectly content.
So I stopped at their cookie wagon.
And purchased not just a box of the mango ones.
 |
| That's disapproving Hello Kitty (recent gift from the bruv) sitting on her confiscated cache of cookies. |
I don't know what quite to do. I have a feeling that I don't really want to eat the second box of cookies. Certainly not as much I just wanted to interact with a reflection of my childhood.
[She said that she liked my backpack!!! Occasionally, I like to daydream about time travelling to visit the past me. How she would perceive me (hopefully with admiration). What I would tell her (usually words to give that girl some well-deserved confidence)]
I came home with what felt like the sweetest smile I've tasted in ages and promptly almost-wept when retelling the story to Roomie.
She says that I've dug my own hole and jumped right in (perhaps a grave?). But I would gladly dig it again if I had to choose again.
That was the story of the gluttonous BFG.
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TL;DR?
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