Music: The Pains of Being Pure at Heart
I've been always more of an indie pop fan than indie rock. My stereotype of typical indie rock was the massive instrumental sound covering all the vocal and also the similar pattern in every soundtrack. I wasn't totally wrong, only that I forgot to give it a chance of seeing it live. When I finally did this Saturday night at Brooklyn Bazaar in Williamsburg, I understood the fanaticism of rock music in general. Everything becomes different when you are actually in front of the stage. The notes were jumping out alive from the bass, guitar, and the keyboard and the vocal found a way to perfectly blend into the instrumental harmony while still standing out as the leading melody. I never realized before that being at an indie rock show could make me let go of so many redundant emotions. Nobody was thinking of anything when they were busy bouncing up and down and delegating the music full control of their bodies. It was purely a moment of purity in the show of The Pains of Being Pure at Heart.
Rooftop: Random building on the 5th Avenue
Discovery and lesson to be learned regarding rooftopping this week: DO NOT underestimate the doors.
There I was again on a random rooftop in the New York City in a what otherwise would be a perfectly chill afternoon, if only the door weren't locked when I tried to get down. The thing is I didn't know there exists a kind of door that can be locked only one way, and when I had no trouble opening the door from the inside of the building, I just assumed I would get out from the same route. But it was locked. I tried every possible door on that rooftop to see if there was another exit, but they were either locked or led to scary elevator shafts. Just when I was desperate enough and about to call the front desk, I noticed the stairs alongside the platform. Narrow, dirty, and hollow stairs outside of a 15 story building. So I had to climb all the way down, and finally managed to walk on the lovely streets again after I crawled out through a deserted basement.
Once again, do not underestimate the doors. Or better, do not underestimate anything.
Book: Boy Meets Depression (Kevin Breel)
This book is simply a must-read for me and touched on every neuron of my body. Kevin Breel first talked about depression on a Ted Talk before publishing the book. I was deeply moved by his words because for one thing I could relate to each tiny intangible yet absolutely existing feeling and self negating emotions; for another he took the courage to write about his personal experience to convince the readers that life IS really worth much, if you let it be.
I know myself well enough that I am aware I can type all these words of positive energy this moment and the next all the struggles, self-loathing, emptiness and hopelessness would still come back to me. But it's reassuring to have the book lying next to my bed, reminding me I am not the only one in whatever darkness there is to emerge.
