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I'm not talking lyrics that best say what I'm trying to say. I'm talking the songs that are playing as you walk down the street, slip and fall in the shower, buy deodorant, eat breakfast. And I have tried to pinpoint this, I have tried to narrow it down and define the music that best serves as a backdrop and mirror to my life. I can't.

This isn't because of the way my moods are constantly changing, (and they are, fluctuating and peaking and falling). No, it's not only about the flux and range in emotions but the pieces of a composite whole that comprise my orchestral score.

Here, see?, there's Tubthumping with Chumbawamba and it's hot, summer, and I'm longing to go swimming and move out of my parents' house already. And then it's Waterfalls, and steamy warm rain and I'm even younger, tired in a cramped Florida apartment and trying to stay sane.

Now there's Escape, Steps, MOVING, and I'm running down the piers along the Hudson River, and getting lost somewhere in Chinatown and there is September and oh, Yanni, I am on a bus or plane or train to somewhere far away and it feels like deep blue music that will somehow let me sleep.

All of them, and more, and less, Sex Bomb brings back skies and a beautiful boy who was capable of hurting lots more than we'd imagined, and there are sunny days and the gas tank full and hot nights, cold nights, trains and beds and windows.

Music, a soundtrack, oh. It's all about transportation of self and transformation and sensory triggers and pheremones and knee-jerk reactions, it's the greasy-haired bachelor who keeps hitting on you and the daisies that died when you picked them and the stray cat that followed you home. When you try to get it down, it's nothing to listen to, just some memories.

A soundtrack to my life, any life, to be consistent and true to the source has to take years into account, time and place and then people; colors and foods and then jobs; cars and mail and weather. A soundtrack to a life is so intense and complicated a score, it's overwhelming and powerful, and if at all consistent, impossible.

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