Friday, May 20, 2011

Song 10: To All Those Gone

I'm going to try something a little different. Whenever I have my Zune or Windows Media Player on random, I'll do a write-up on the tenth song that plays. Its kind of like The Smoking Section's iPod Shuffle except, you know...Zune

Song Title: "One Mo' Time"
Artist: Freddie Gibbs
Album: midwestgangstaboxframecadillacmuzik

TSS described Freddie Gibbs' style for their Freshmen 10 of '10 as a mix of Tupac Shakur and Bone Thugs n' Harmony because he can blend gansta with intelligence while rhyming like he was from Cleveland circa 1995. I'd describe "One Mo' Time" as his "Crossroads" (at least for now) since its dealing with the death of loved ones. The first verse has him lamenting the death of a close friend who he personally saw go from dealer to one of Freddie's customers. (Basically what happened to Pookie, but the he fell farther.) The second verse is about his inability to really cope with lose, even though he knows those he lost are in a better place. It's a heartfelt ode to those that are gone, but not forgotten by Gibbs.

I'm not that emotional of a person, but I feel where he's coming from when it comes to loss, as I'm sure everyone else has experience loss themselves.

To me, death never really seems...real, if that makes any sense. I know I won't be seeing friends and family that have gone on anymore in this world, but I can never seem to really let go. I'll see a car like the one a friend used to drive and expect to see them in the driver's seat; I'll sometimes see someone that looks a little like them, and I'll be reminded that they're gone and, even though I don't think it's right, my day will be a little ruined because they died. I can't help wanting those who went on to still be here, even the ones who were sick. I hoped that they would get better when they were here, and I still hold out for Hollywood endings when I hear someone's in a bad way.
I made a pact with myself that I wouldn't go to anymore funerals after a friend of mine past in 2008. Its the open caskets, the body of someone who only days before I was talking to about band or relationships or whatever, lying there made up while their mothers, fathers, sibilings and friends cry out for them, that I can't stand. Not everyone's strong enough to remember that their loved ones have gone to someplace better. They just want them back here, now.
I don't know what it says about me as a person or my mental health, but I've never cried at the funeral or the grave. When I cry its days or weeks later, in the middle of the night. Tears running down my face as all the emotions I don't show rush out, and I try to push them back in without waking anyone up.

When I die, I want a New Orleans style funeral.

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