Thursday, August 03, 2006

Funny how in the book Tuesdays with Morrie that the teacher himself defines his old age as not to be looked down upon like a life already gone by; because like any age, you can summon your past to the present, and relive these memories, with emotions and all.

I was just listening on the cd player in the car, to the songs of Mr. Jim Croce himself. And I remember way back then, when i was a little kid, listening to the Akai sound system as the turntable plays the music of Jim and the rest of the 70's crowd. Everytime I think of that time, it gives me this sensation of beautiful nostalgia, most like a morphine shot I guess, that numbs the pain and intensifies my shiny, happy, happy feeling :)

Fun memories. I had such fun when I was a kid. Although I do wish we all had such times as kids, I know that some of us have not been that lucky. Part of me feels that reality as well, except at a different age.

Anyway, about the song. His familiar voice plus a fresh look at the lyrics has made quite an impression on me. Goodness! He's referring to me! Why in the hell did it never occur to me that this song is about me. It's about me. The search for a home. The experience of a different landscape. The feeling of misplaced identity and an awakening from it. And the decision to do something about it. It's as if I just got slapped in the face. Just unbelievable. Guess he understands. Guess I'm not alone after all.

... Now I feel better. Hehe!


New York's Not My Home
Jim Croce

Well things were spinnin' round me
And all my thoughts were cloudy
And I had begun to doubt all the things that were me
Been in so many places
You know I've run so many races
And looked into the empty faces of the people of the night
And something is just not right!

'Cause I know
That I gotta get out of here
I'm so alone
Don't you know that I gotta get out of here
Cause New York's not my home

Though all the streets are crowded
There's somethin' strange about it
I lived there bout a year and I never once felt at home
I thought I'd make the big time
I learned a lot of lessons awful quick and now I'm
Tellin' you that they were not the nice kind
And it's been so long since I have felt fine!

That's the reason
That I gotta get out of here
I'm so alone
Don't you know that I gotta get out of here
Cause New York's not my home


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