Miracle on Riot!

For my next Paramore song, I've chosen Miracle from their second studio album, Riot!.

Strangely enough, this is the song that got me into Paramore. The first song I learned by heart. The first song I clearly remembering listening to and falling in love with Hayley's voice.

I say "strangely" because it seems like this song is virtually unknown. I've never heard anyone mentioning it and I've never heard it played at one of their live shows. I've never seen it quoted by anyone, and yet it's on Riot!, an album full of rocking songs. I think that may be it: Riot! is full of really powerful songs and this one just gets overshadowed.

How I relate to this song
Right off the bat, the guitar picks up and soon enough, Hayley chimes in with:

I've gone for too long
Living like I'm not alive
So I'm going to start over tonight
Beginning with you and I

When I hear these lyrics, it stirs me into mental action. A realization of sorts. I tell myself: "Wow, I have been living like I'm not alive. Doing the same old routine, running in circles all the time and not paying attention to the beauty that is life all around me. I need to change that right now." But how?

Queue the chorus.

I'm not going 'cause I've been waiting for a miracle
And I'm not leaving
I won't let you, let you give up on a miracle
When it might save you

Simply, this gives me hope that there is magic in life. That there are miracles, however invisible, and that life is not all mundane and that there is sacredness if you choose to believe in it. "Lyra" exemplifies this for me.

We've learned to run from
Anything uncomfortable
We've tied our pain below
And no one ever has to know

That inside we're broken
I try to patch things up again
To count my tears and kill these fears
But have I told you, have I?

Wow. Powerful stuff. I see a lot of the wisdom that is the lyricism of Williams and Farro, back when Joshua was still in the band.
This section of the song, to me, speaks about human instincts, running away from what we do not want in our lives. And it speaks about the shadow, the darkness that we hide from others in order to appear sane. But it also illustrates the capacity to heal things.

We'll get it right this time
It's not faith if you're using your eyes

That particular lyric, "It's not faith if you're using your eyes", confounds me. But that's the cool thing about music. You don't need to understand what something means to feel it inside.

I've noticed a pattern, related to a particular lyric in "Brick by Boring Brick", a song from their third album. I'll see if I can make a link when I take a look at this incredible song in a future analysis, but here's the lyric if you want to try and see a connection:

If it's not real
You can't hold it in your hand
You can't feel it with your heart
And I won't believe it
But if it's true
You can see it with your eyes
Oh, even in the dark

Alright, that's enough Paramore writing for the day.

Signed,
Kaleidoughscope

Conspiracy

I've been asked a couple times why I'm so much into Paramore; why I go to all their shows, buy their memorabilia, and idolize Hayley. It's simple. Their songs lift my spirits and untangle my sometimes confusing reality. They help me explain the unexplainable, reason the unreasonable, and provide me with hope in my periods of despair.

So for my own sake, I figured I'd try and relate how I feel with some of their songs. Here's the first one. It's not my favourite, but I relate to it at an intellectual and somewhat emotional level. It's called Conspiracy, from their first studio album All we know is falling.

 

How I relate to this song
The song begins with the lyrics:

Please speak softly, for they will hear us
And they'll find out why we don't trust them. 

There was a time in my life where I was very paranoid; where I was locked up in an institution and the psychiatrists and the nurses were trying to help me and get me to talk about what I was thinking. I never could trust them enough to tell them anything, so I spoke softly to Lyra instead.

The bridge goes:
Where can I turn? 'Cause I need something more
Surrounded by uncertainty, I'm so unsure
Tell me why I feel so alone 
'Cause I need to know to whom do I owe

I relate this to my paranoia and loneliness, unable to make decisions on my own. And unsure who to turn to.

The chorus starts:
Explain to me this conspiracy against me

There was a time in my life when that would have been nice.

Signed,
Kaleidoughscope

Screaming

My mind is screaming at me. "No, no, no! Start your essay! Don't procrastinate. Send an e-mail to your contact who can help you write it! You know he has a degree in Linguistics, and that he's multilingual, and that he's more than happy to help you write a good essay."

My mind keeps screaming. To quiet the terror of an essay due in only a few days, I decide to write. Better to write than mindlessly consume media on Reddit. I was about to do that, but then I realized that I get terribly lost living vicariously through other people's ideas.

The terror subsides. As long as my fingers move, the despair can't catch up to me. It clutches at me every moment I pause and think about how little time is left in this semester. So I keep writing, hoping that the calm ocean of solitude that my words create keep the monster at bay.

I know I can't swim in this ocean forever, else I get lost and sink, but at least the feeling of being protected allows me to think more rationally.

Okay. A deep breath. I know I can write. I know I have the capacity to string sentences together, and paragraphs, and sections, and I know my capacity to create arguments is there somewhere. But five to eight pag- NO. Stop.

I have found valour's blade once more. Not unlike when Harry Potter summons Gryffindor's sword from the sorting hat and slays the serpent, so too shall I slay this monster of an essay.

"You had so much ti-" SLICE.
"You're wasting tim-" SLASH.
"You're probably going to get a bad ma-" STAB.

The pen is as mighty as the sword.

Signed,
Kaleidoughscope

Coco

Yesterday evening, I was walking to campus after having bought a new djembe at a local African drums & crafts store. As this store was located near the Kensington Market, I had decided I would walk through the market to get to Woodsworth College at UofT, just north and slightly east of Kensington.

As I walking up Augusta, I heard crying and at the same time, saw a young woman seated on a bench with her open purse lying beside her. She was wailing uncontrollably and although it was nighttime, there were still a few passersby walking on the sidewalk, completely ignoring this clearly distraught woman.

I'll admit, the first thought that popped into my head was: "I should probably just keep walking". But that thought lasted only for a split second as I felt the need to at least go talk to her and reassure her and maybe see what was going on.

I sat down beside the young woman and asked her what was wrong. I'm not sure if she answered (or even attempted to), but her crying subsided somewhat and I asked her if she wanted a hug. Still no words escaped her mouth until I had wrapped my arms around her (and her arms around me) and I heard her say, very softly: "T-thank you".

I asked again what was wrong, and she either didn't seem to want to talk about it or did not understand, so I questioned her no further. I told her, in somewhat jumbled words: "Whatever is going on right now in your life... don't worry, it's all going to be okay". She stopped crying and smiled and thanked me again. She then asked me where I was from, if I was from Canada. I told her I was from here, from Toronto, and that I had lived here all my life.

It was at that moment that I realized that she was not from here. I needlessly asked her if she was from Canada, to which she replied: "No. Japan."
Being very fond of Japan and its culture (despite how little I know of it), I smiled and said: "Really? Awesome! Where in Japan?"

She did not seem to understand what I said (I might have been mumbling), but I asked her if she was from Tokyo. She was! So I asked her what she was up to in Canada, and she told me: "I work at Ali Baba's".
"Oh, the shawarma place! Yum!"
She laughed a bit and seemed much happier.
I asked her what her name was, and she told me "Coco".

I wrote down my e-mail for her and told her to write if she needed anything, and that my name was Gabriel. I did not want to pressure her into telling her life story to a total stranger, so I thought that was the best course of action.

As I got up to walk away, I thought I heard her say: "Wow. What a funny bag!"
She was referring to my djembe carrying case that I was wearing as a very large backpack. I realized how strange it might have looked to her eyes. But since our goodbyes had already been said, I continued to walk toward my destination and did not look back.

-

In retrospect, I wondered many things. Maybe I should have stuck around longer. Maybe she needed someone to talk to, despite the language barrier. Maybe she had been kicked out and needed a warm place to stay. Had I said enough to comfort her?

But in the back of my mind, that constant societal reminder not to be "creepy" lurked and stopped me from doing anything more. Still, this fleeting moment I shared with Coco made me feel alive; human; and reminds me that I am not a mindless drone devoid of compassion. No, I am Gabriel and I care about the world and its inhabitants.

Signed,
Kaleidoughscope

Gone in 37 seconds

Red bike, stand out, tuck in, lock secured.

Slick tuque, windproof jacket, rain drizzling, speedily pedaling on Davenport Rd.

Night falls, lights on, mind off, wind blowing on my face.

Race by the still cars, freedom just beyond the lights, shadows from the lampposts fade behind me.

Turn signal on, lose the grip on the handlebar, soar through the biosphere.

Black asphalt, grey sidewalk, yellow crossings blink on and off.

Lose track of time, win the rat race, brake fast, and stash bike away.

Signed,

Kaleidoughscope

Creeping in

I see you, dark angel. I see you lurking just beyond where my eyes can see. You were gone for a good while, leaving nothing behind except for traces of your gluttony. And during that time, the light angel showed me heaven.

Now you dare creep back into my life after having been gone for so little time? You are not welcome. And this time, your curses will not linger for very long. I built up my defences. She helped me. You might have taken down one wall, but I have a veritable fortress standing in your way. You will not pierce it.

The light angel is stronger. She always was, I just never realized it as much as I do now. Your attempts shall all be in vain. I will not succumb to your temptations of comfort and safety.

I have the blade. And I intend to use it.

Signed,
Kaleidoughscope