Since mp3 players are so small and affordable now, I no longer have to listen to the sounds of the world when I take a walk. Every time I’m outside, I simply have to put on my headphones and it all goes away. With each song, I get to imagine something.
I imagine a scene. Five friends gather in a graveyard to sing songs to their deceased friend. They talk about their friend, and what he did when he was alive, the awesome things they accomplished together. They spend the whole day next to his grave. They eat together. At night, when it’s time to leave, they write good-bye messages in his grave and play a song called “Requiem”.
I imagine a scene. A couple dances across the room. They are dancers by profession, and they are also married. With each step, they let go of their problems at home and instead surrender to the passion in their dance. We can see images from their days together reflected on her dress. We see the fights, the arguments, the mutual blame. We also see the kisses under the bridge, the words of encouragement, the silent evenings sitting at home watching old movies.
I imagine a scene. A couple is arguing inside a car at night. They are parked outside her house. They love each other, but you can see in their eyes that they are tired of shouting. The argument escalates exponentially, each saying things they don’t mean. When morning comes, he is holding back his tears, she’s openly crying. You can tell it’s the end, and it physically hurts them. She gets out of the car, a mess of meshed make-up and emotions. She stands in the doorway and waves to him. He waves back, but once she’s inside he’s a complete mess. The pain is driving him crazy.
I imagine a scene. After a year of mourning, an middle-aged man lets go of the painful memory of his deceased wife. He is sitting on a bench in the park and, for the first time in a year, looks up. He sees the trees and the squirrels and the birds and he learns that he can remember his wife based on the little things they did together. He gets up from the bench and starts walking through the park. He hears the people, the cars, the loud stereos. The ghost of his wife waits for him at the end of the long road. They hold hands. She sees him, and finally knows that everything is going to be alright. She sees the light.
I imagine a scene. A young man sits in a large empty room, playing the piano. He came to this room by mistake, while wondering around the hotel where someone he knows is getting married in. He plays a calm, melancholic song. He knows this song by heart, he does not have to look at the keys to play it. He closes his eyes. A young girl walks into the room, by curiosity. Her steps make no sound. He doesn’t know she’s there. She stands next to the piano and looks at him. She can see he longs for something, but she doesn’t know what. He plays with great passion. When he’s done, he opens his eyes. She sees her next to the piano, looking at him. He starts to say something, but she comes closer. She kisses him.
Who needs reality when you’ve got music and a wild imagination?