Delicious nostalgia

It comes and it goes like the waves of the sea, it goes up and it goes down like the stock exchange actions. There are days when everything goes right, day when everything goes wrong, there are days of apathy, days of uprising face to small things, nights of loneliness and despair and nights when the joy recycles itself.

Every one lives his own particular universe in a better convenient way for him. Despite of the attempt of uniforming the ideologies and lifestyle, people are still free to imagine. Memories, even they can seem worthless to some closer of further people, they are theirs, they are unique, nontransferable.

And not only what you lived, as well as what you think and feel. People can really try to imagine what you feel when you share some of these emotions and memories, but they'll never get closer. First of all, because they haven't lived the sensation you described; second of all, where you see magic, they can see ordinary things; third of all, you have no way to know due to the impenetrability of the souls.

But getting closer is a half of this. Identifing yourself in some parts too. It is like smelling a perfume that can please to you and bring you back to good memories at the same time it makes another one to have a headache. Or understanding the deepness of a painting while one sees only scratches. And it can be only scratches, perhaps the painter was so pissed off due to the non-recognized work that he decided to scratch because it is “art noveau” – or it was or it will be one day. The art admirer interprets the world according to the window of his eyes, not as people say him to do. People give their own value to the things. Imposing is useless. Contesting too. Then, in these cases, you'd better artificialize expressions and reactions.

Music... oh music. Able to promote an spectacle of synesthesia and awake memories and sensations of years, decades ago. It is listening “Crying in the Rain” and remember a cold dawn, the lights of the poles still on and everybody sleeping on a mattress upon the living room floor. It is listening to “She Drives Me Crazy” and reminding the time you jumped on your younger brother's belly. It is listening “Total Ellipse of the Heart” and remember that in that time the naive people of your street got impressed about a Saint John balloon burning in the sky – would it be an UFO?

Old songs bring back the good sensations, they bring back that one you was, less experienced, but more purer and dreamer. And when you look back in the past, it is like the life was more colorful. Colors fade away until it remains only black, white and gray while we don't meet the death in the total blackout or during the darkness of the indifference. But not only because of this, it seems like people were more glad, simple and spontaneous, different from the desperate people of today concerned in taking part of a dictatorship that promises happiness but that only makes them feel more internally unhappy, despite of the yellow smiles and the vapor tears being convincing to prove the opposite.

Music have this power of awaking the delicious nostalgia that make you want to share, but it is a little disappointing when you do it and the feedback is less effusive. This is not a question of antipathy, but what has a ego-historic value to you, may not have to the other one, anyway. And well, let's accept and enjoy the rich universe of our imagination, of our liberty land. Dreaming is nice, but it would be better to dream in two in a cold and rainy Saturday night, listening to the delicious songs of Antena 1 remembering the great classics and overeating a pizza without feeling guilty.