Music, Late Nights, and Memories I Can't Explain

Sometimes, a song takes us back to a time we can't fully remember, but somehow, we still remember how it felt.

I find it funny that I can sleep almost anywhere when I travel, even in a messy room with things all over the place. But at home, I can't sleep if the kitchen is dirty. Sometimes, I'm already sleepy and tired, telling myself to just clean it tomorrow. I turn off the lights, get into bed, and then somehow find myself going back to the kitchen to clean it anyway. Apparently, my brain has different rules when I'm at home.

While doing these little chores, I usually listen to affiliate marketing podcasts, news, true crime stories, or just music.

Today, while washing the dishes, I listened to All I Am by Heatwave, and it brought back a familiar feeling. There is something about ballads like this that makes me feel as if I'm experiencing the emotions behind the song. It's hard to explain, but sometimes, I'm not just listening to someone sing about love, longing, or heartbreak. I feel as if I'm experiencing those emotions myself.

This kind of music also reminds me of my boarding house days in Yogyakarta. Sometimes, I would wake up in the middle of the night and be unable to fall asleep again. I would grab my Sony Ericsson K510i (yes, I still remember, haha...), turn on Sonora Radio, and listen to whatever songs were playing while the rest of the world was asleep.

I also get a similar feeling when listening to these kind of songs during nighttime journeys. Sitting in a car, watching the lights pass by against the dark scenery, with a ballad playing in the background. There's something about these moments that makes me feel a little melancholic, even when nothing is wrong.

Maybe it's the combination of the music, the darkness, and the quiet atmosphere that makes these feelings come back. Or maybe our brains connect music with the places and moments in which we first heard it. Years later, a familiar melody can bring back not just a memory, but also the feelings we associate with it. Maybe that's why certain songs feel so personal, even when we can't explain exactly why.

I don't necessarily miss those days in Yogyakarta, but there's something about that time in my life that still feels familiar whenever I hear this kind of music. Maybe what we miss isn't always the past itself, but the feeling we had during those moments.

Anyway, it's getting late, and I should probably go to bed. At least the kitchen is clean.