these are some thoughts i'd scribbled down a few weeks ago, while listening to the radio and bidding sleep to come. it deserves a mention, if nothing else because as i get older i begin to see what "they" (the generations before us and the generations to come who will one day also go before others) mean, or what it is that moves them when they recount, with wistful far-off looks, golden stories of "the good ol' days".
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i just heard ely buendia sing moonriver at rock ed radio tonight, as he serenaded women all over the world in celebration of international women's day. it was a poignant moment for me, as i closed my eyes listening to the voice of my generation singing one of my most favorite songs.
in ely, the elusive rakishness, the rebel youthfulness, the irreverence of the '90s - all distilled in the voice that always reminds me of student hi-jinks and adolescent confusion, or that moment when you first fancied forever while looking into the eyes of someone you could love (and you think, could you love me back?).
in moonriver, your reflection on a clear pool of water, flying under starlight, crossing bridges, leaping borders, escapades with peter pan, vintage old rose. audrey hepburn valiantly, sweetly carrying the tune as she sat by the window, drying her hair.
somehow the combination of these two opened the overflowing dams of nostalgia in my heart, moved to tears by sepia thoughts more than anything else, for things past made sweeter in remembrance or sheer imagination.
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