"Dreams" by The Cranberries holds a special significance for me: it came into my consciousness at a lonely and beautiful time in my life: at the age of sixteen I was in the closet, my mother and I living with her neurotic mother (my grandmother) and her crack-addicted brother (my uncle). As odd as this may sound, "Dreams" has always seemed rather melancholic to me: a song that drifts through environment like the music of innocence, discovered and lost. I danced, cried, jogged, thought, contemplated, tried killing myself - all of that to this song. That's weighty, I suppose, but that's the significance this song holds for me. It's a song of self-discovery, who ever the "you" in the song may be, I have always taken it to mean the most integral "you": the person listening to it. Whenever I turn it on...I can still catch myself dancing to the beautiful and tenebrous music of being sixteen.
"Dreams" by The Cranberries holds a special significance for me: it came into my consciousness at a lonely and beautiful time in my life: at the age of sixteen I was in the closet, my mother and I living with her neurotic mother (my grandmother) and her crack-addicted brother (my uncle). As odd as this may sound, "Dreams" has always seemed rather melancholic to me: a song that drifts through environment like the music of innocence, discovered and lost. I danced, cried, jogged, thought, contemplated, tried killing myself - all of that to this song. That's weighty, I suppose, but that's the significance this song holds for me. It's a song of self-discovery, who ever the "you" in the song may be, I have always taken it to mean the most integral "you": the person listening to it. Whenever I turn it on...I can still catch myself dancing to the beautiful and tenebrous music of being sixteen.