I heard an instrumental version of this song just now. Alexa served it up for Me, during today’s request to “Play Free Music.”
The lyrics that triggered PASSION in this exact moment are as follows:
“We’ve gotta hold on to what we’ve got
It doesn’t make a difference if we make it or not
We got each other, and that’s a lot for love
We’ll give it a shot”
Gina tells Tommy this. Tommy, Gina’s Beloved. He’s tryina bring home the bacon – AKA “make a good Life” for Gina & Himself – and He’s… struggling. Not “killing it” not “completely thrown in the towel, yet”… but, struggling. Where I suspect most Human Beings exist. In this Gray area, between Reaching the Stars and the barest of Survival. Hand to Mouth.
Lyrics like this – random Stories like this – is Why a lot of Folks out there [N: Me, included] love the 80s so much. [N: My guess] Not necessarily the decade, or this period of Life in My Own Story, but the Music. Like just now, I can recall not just the Artist or the song title, I can sing every word of the song, too. And – in doing so – I get a ton of dopamine jolts.
The music of the 80s is the internal soundtrack of My Life, TBH. It doesn’t mean every other piece of music sucks – “pipe down, TECH!” – it just means that music of the 80s resonates the strongest for Me, personally. Probably because it was smack dab in the middle of some formative years… but not just that; also because it was a very high level of toxicity at that time, for Me.
Music was My Lifeline to My Own Survival. It saved Me… in all the ways a Person can be saved. And that saying, “Survival of the Fittest”? Inaccurate. It’s not the Fittest that are surviving, because these are two opposite points on the Spectrum.
Survival is for the Broken. The Full-of-Despair. The… Struggling.
And when I am drowning in the vast ocean of Life? I need a Life preserver. Music is this Life preserver, for Me.
But with all Life preservers, it must be thrown to Me by another Human Being… standing above Me on the deck of a passing ship.
I can only be Saved if Somebody helps Me to reach that place. I can only be Saved if They notice I’m thrashing about in the water alone.
And drowning? It’s usually Silent. Ask any Lifeguard, They’ll tell You.
. . .
Conner’s Comments: And one last thing about Saving any Other Person: It never looks or feels like I Conceptually imagine it to be, in My Own SB. The KEY is that the Person I am trying to save right now ‘sees’ Their Own oasis, appear out of nowhere in the desert. They hafta see it, firsthand. Why? Because f#cking Free Will. [N: loll] And also because “I am Not the Boss of You,” DR.