So…. John Allen Muhammad was executed on Tuesday (and all good killers go by their full name, natch). Not a proponent of the death penalty, myself, but it brings up a lot of… stuff for me. Not emotions, really. I’m pretty much over the fact that I was living in VA during the DC Sniper incident and that two people were shot in the city I was living in (The Hippy reminds me that people are shot in the city I’m currently living in “all the time,” but I maintain there’s difference).
Completely unrelated, I’ve been going through my iTunes in order to refresh the music on my ipods (yes, pods… whether I’ll change both of them or not is currently being internally debated). In order to do this, I’ve been going through the list alphabetically and adding certain songs to an iPod folder. I’ve been discovering songs I didn’t remember I had. I’ve also been reminded of certain feelings that songs evoke for me.
It wasn’t until today that I realized why I feel uncomfortable when I listen to certain songs. Certain songs that I used to love and used to listen to all the time. Today I realized that there is a certain set of songs–songs I acquired roughly seven years ago–that sounds like fear. These are the songs that I would escape to when I was safely back within my dorm, hoping my roommates wouldn’t turn on the news. Some songs have been immune to this, either because I was listening to them long before the sniper incident (although there were two snipers, it’s ingrained to speak of them as a single) or because they are simply pure awesome.
They say that smells provoke the most memories, but I think for me it’s often music.