The Extent of My Voyeurism

Even I admit, it’s a little creepy. And I try very had not to do it, yet I’m still compelled…bordering on obsession.

I have done this for quite awhile now, in fits and stops, knowing I find myself too wrapped up, too engaged, enraptured often flirting with madness. I just can’t help myself, and you will never know.

I watch what you listen to.

That’s it. The extent of my voyeurism. I watch what you listen to. Your music.

We live in a digital age, this is not a difficult task. You linked your music service to your social media and I can see, in almost real time, each song that you choose. And I find that I peep your playlist often. More often than I really should.

This has become an intimate glimpse into who your are, yet completely without any true context. I’m only left to guess why you chose the flavor or tempo or lyrical depth of each track. I try and piece together the puzzle of your innermost thoughts and most tightly held feelings with each singer, each song. Decipher your intention, unravel your mystery, map your heart in the moment by what you play.

I research the words to your songs, pick apart a phrase or chorus, attempt to glean any meaning from the themes you string together, one chord at a time.

A drifting, languid song for when you want to sway or dream…

A powerful anthem for when you feel the unfairness surround you…

A sad singer with a soft guitar to match your loneliness…

A hard, slow rhythm for when you want to be touched…

A mournful torch to match your longing…

I see heartfelt patterns and subtle surprises, I see cool waves and sudden departures, all in the songs I watch you listen to.

And in each song you play, I wonder if you hear me.

4 thoughts on “The Extent of My Voyeurism

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