It’s My Body, Until It’s Not
Today you get more K-pop.
So this group is one called 4Minute, and this particular song has a saxophone in it. And that’s cool.
Remember how I said that K-pop videos tended to be more about spectacle than the actual music itself? Well the same holds true here. The visuals are great, with a little Gothic influence on the architecture of the sets and the costumes (at least, that’s what I think it is. Don’t quote me on that, now!).
I won’t vouch for these girl’s dancing abilities. There isn’t much dance to the dance. Or rather, the flow really feels off at some points. That, however, is made up for in the performance that these girls give in their eyes.
Seriously, I was sort of blown away by some of the expressions in a few scenes. Quite impressive.
The lyrics? Nothing special, just them whining about how boys don’t like them or something like that, and so they are blasting music to forget about their problems.
Something along those lines, at least. The nice thing about not speaking Korean is that the stuff that is worth conveying, meaning everything but the lyrics, still comes across, while the words themselves are conveniently left out of my experience.
Anyway, give it a shot, and see what you think. It’s entertaining enough to occupy a few minutes of your time, I’d say. Roughly four minutes, actually. (Hardy har, I’m so witty!)
Now, enough of that. Let me pose you a question. Have you ever felt detached? As if instead of living in reality, you were watching it like a movie, and your eyes were simply cameras recording it?
I feel like that a lot. Everything feels surreal and strange. You feel like a guest inside of your own flesh, having little control of what happens around you, existing solely as an observer.
In short; it’s my body, until it’s not.
I’ve tried figuring out the reasons behind it, but to no avail. Sometimes it seems like it’s a defense mechanism, shielding me from the pressures of this world, sometimes it feels like I’m so disconnected in my imagination all the time and this is just a side effect of that, and sometimes it feels like a part of depression. Maybe it’s a little of all of those things at once.
A lot of the time, I realize it happens because I’m caught up in my own world. I’m imagining something I want to happen in my novel, or thinking about how I should word something, or even just picturing a random scene (such as the ones I showed you in the last post).
I’ve had friends and family comment on it, stating that sometimes I sound distracted when I’m conversing with them, or commenting on how I tend to stare off into space a lot. Well, the answer to that is that I am. If it seems like I’m not paying attention, it’s because I’m not. It’s not their fault by any means; my mind decides how to allocate its concentration, and it wanted to think about some fantasy at that point instead of what they were saying. Perhaps it’s rude, and perhaps it’s eccentric, but it’s the hazards of being a writer. Or being a detached person. I just sort of lump those things together really.
Other times, it just happens for no reason. Like I’m going to just float out of my body into the sky, and exist there as a formless spirit, floating on the wind currents, viewing the world from that lofty height. Perhaps that wouldn’t be so bad, but there are things that I want to accomplish down here, and I need to find some tether, something to hold onto, to keep me attached.
If this were a movie, this would be the point where the girl shows up and brings me back from the brink to reality again. Or maybe she joins me in my own world, and together we travel to even more imaginative fantasies…
Hmm. That might make a good story, actually.
Brendon “sorry, what were you just saying?” Regier