Every single morning, I wake up with a song in my head.
I normally get part of a melody, a beat, some instrumentation… something along those lines. Whatever specific song floating around in my brain matches up with that “music” is the one I end up hearing. Sometimes, I find there’s a reason for the song — I may have heard it recently, or it was played while I was asleep. More often than not, though, they come out of nowhere.
This is a form of synesthesia. My grandfather also woke up with songs every day of his 92 years. Synesthesia is technically the mixed experience of two specific senses, and we’ve pretty much decided that the music my grandfather heard and that I hear is usually based on the color and intensity of light, which would make us visual/aural synesthetes.
So, if we wake up in a dark room, a bright room, a room with “cool” light (as in the winter) or “warm” light (spring/summer), or a room painted a certain color… it’s basically infinite colors x infinite levels of brightness, so there’s a pretty huge range.
Occasionally a song will set the mood for my day or morning, but it also tends to drift away by noon. I frequently need to track down the song and listen to it in its entirety in order to keep myself sane. That part really sucks if I don’t remember any lyrics, or if the song just doesn’t have lyrics and I’m stuck in musical purgatory. This is a major contributing reason for the creation this blog.
Occasionally, for a few days or weeks at a time, I will wake up with American songs from the 1930s and 40s — usually ballads. I have no explanation for that whatsoever. In many of these cases, I have absolutely never heard the song before — that’s probably the only thing about the whole experience that I’ve ever found really strange. Otherwise, I didn’t know that this wasn’t “normal” until I was in my late teens.
“Always keep a song in your heart – it’s like karaoke for the voices in your head.” – Robert Fulton Abernethy
I curse too much. I highly endorse random acts of kindness. I grew up on a koi farm with dogs as siblings. I love nature documentaries and documentaries about serial killers (I have no reasonable explanation for that). I really, really like a good vodka gimlet, though I’m pretty sure my liver does not. I’m a grammar nazi, but I do try not to be a dick about it. I don’t eat fast food and I don’t shop at “big box” stores — not because I want to be a hipster, but because I’m a filthy hippie with liberal social concerns. I am a genealogy nerd who can name a bunch of babies who died in a cholera outbreak, which is a weird thing to know, as it turns out. I don’t have a lower right canine tooth or a gallbladder (the latter adventure is documented in this blog). I love kayaking and wilderness camping. I’m a women’s health activist. I’ve fought The Cancer, and I can tell you, getting three Gardasil shots is a hell of a lot better than getting cancer. I collect music boxes. I recycle. I’ve had chronic insomnia since I was five, and I didn’t get treatment for that until college because I’m an idiot. I really like chocolate and bread, which is totally a healthy diet. I’m a secular humanist. I really, really like to play Minecraft. I can draw manatees really, really well.
For what it’s worth, this is my favorite song of all time.