Way to be loved

Standing in the sparse crowd at a concert, I’m trying to calm my chaotic brain. I have my Loop earplugs in, and I’m simultaneously staring into space and into the hazy smoke on the empty stage, lit by blue lighting. I’m taken to many places all at once as I sip from my cup of water. I’m taken back to a place and a feeling, with the cries of a tangential memory stretching into the corners of my mind. I recall many nights like this, spent alone, standing in the crowd between bands’ sets. This venue, Oxford Art Factory, is so familiar to me too. That is the place. I remember passing time between sets by using my pink iPhone with poor battery, which later turned into passing time to optimise productivity and cull photos from my DSLR camera once I became a regular concert photographer in the early 2010s. But I was alone all the same. That is the feeling.

This time, alone feels a bit different. The tangential memory is far more recent—being neglected and having to last-minute find someone to accompany me to a concert. I was left to experience these concerts in the way that I used to: alone. Alone isn’t bad. But as much as I got used to it, and as much as the freedom became something I learned to appreciate, it didn’t dampen the feelings of not being cared about enough. It didn’t shake the past pain of feeling so alone while experiencing something I was so passionate about and wanted to share with people close to me.

I recall some times I’d actually write blog posts on the go. On the train, on a commute, while walking, while waiting for a class to start, and even while waiting between bands at a concert. My brain would be so full of ideas, but my heart was also addicted to sharing my writing on my online space. It has been a long time since I’ve been in no particular place, just somewhere arbitrary, but feel the urge to write.

I don’t think my brain was calm during those moments. It was always racing. Prior to my ADHD diagnosis, I remember always saying, “I feel like I need to put aside time to think, because I don’t have time to think during the day”. Now that I’m older, I have more self awareness and recognise that this was an indication of how busy and chaotic my brain was. Today, I’m particularly aware of how unsettled it is. On my walk to the concert venue, I was looking forward to being in an environment of live music. When I was younger, I felt so alive*, less weird, and less judged. Now I know, too: it helps my mind shut up.

I also used to write these almost streams-of-consciousness style, mostly un-proofread blog posts, in the most unusual of places. And I guess maybe, maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to do that with this one.

So I stand here and realise I’m not alone. I have a friend. Her name’s Georgie and she has long red hair and a pink iPhone. She’s wearing a band shirt of some band I vaguely remember. She tells me she is trying to decide between two of the vinyl records at the merch desk. I’ve only just started collecting vinyl records again, I say. Why don’t we get both of them and listen together?

The title of this blog post comes from the song Way to be Loved by TOPS, the Canadian indie band whose concert I went to last night. It is a nod to the Tumblr/late 2000s/early 2010s era of tilting blog posts after song lyrics.

*I Feel Alive is also the title of a song by TOPS.