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#soundtrack
I watched a movie the other day the intro credits were more of an intro to you in this space sober and aware the air in between well at least for me felt different The movie commenced till a tune a soundtrack hit a scene I nestling on the floor beneath felt his feet beat to the beats following the per second theme He's never seen this scene before nor the movie as a whole that's how you know music runs through his veins without him saying a word tap tap ... wait tap tap tap tap...wait tap tap till the scene ended he came back from his trance he was watching the movie again
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May 20, 2025
May 20, 2025 at 6:37 AM UTC
Watching A Movie
Nostalgia from my childhood and what I wasn’t alive for. Reminding me of listening to the radio and CD players. Played for the umpteenth time and still heard for the first. Connected through lyrics written with passion and strength. Understood for the art it was intended to be. Instrumentals pouring through my soul like Henny on ice. Being transported nationally and internationally by the taps of my fingers. Careless enough to explore any genre of my choosing. Appreciated for the creativity and beauty and dedication. A chance to escape to forget but never forgetting to truly escape. Music has the power to inspire those that also want to create. It can set you free if you let it. Music can turn a world on its head back upside. It can lift up a hung-down head, bring joy to a sad spirit. Music can do what’s wanted and especially needed. My ears and my heart cherish the instrumentals, the lyrics, the chance to find memories, the opportunity to vibe. Chance after chance to enjoy just one thing as it was, is, and always will be. -Mia J 9/2/2024 © 2024 Mia J
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May 14, 2025
May 14, 2025 at 6:37 PM UTC
Soundtrack To My Heart
Bass and bourbon notes Flutter down through my system And I taste the sound.
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Dec 15, 2022
Dec 15, 2022 at 11:19 PM UTC
Bourbon
Harmonies and melodies that accompanied my drift, nursing wounded soul and often giving it a lift. Moments when cords and rhythm took me the next mile, so many old chorus' that could make my heart smile. Songs and tunes that touched the moments I've seen, to connect forever to people and places I've been. Soundtrack to my life to record memories in rhyme, taking me back as if I were some traveler in time. At some lonely hour when an old track comes to mind, stresses and troubles for a time gone and left behind. Teleported by some in the moment pertinent track, where a mind can find escape and be taken right back. The music of who I am, of my soul that shaped my life, at every joyous moment and every tumultuous next strife. I play those old tunes and I sing so badly right along, I can't help but to do so, as its my life and hearts song.
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Jul 10, 2022
Jul 10, 2022 at 10:00 PM UTC
The Big O...h no
Move            to the                      beat                                          of your own                                                       soundtrack, Before your ears are no longer moved by the notes.
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Jul 17, 2020
Jul 17, 2020 at 9:01 AM UTC
Heartbeat Music
The mind was always background noise in a soundtrack played by the beats of one's heart with lyrics from conversations inspiration from hyperventilation and palpitations
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Jun 30, 2020
Jun 30, 2020 at 3:37 AM UTC
DJ
its been two years without you in my life since I abruptly left years full of pain and confusion of being lost the pain you brought me was nothing compared to the pain without you the soundtrack of my life missing
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May 12, 2020
May 12, 2020 at 4:27 PM UTC
Love & Belonging
imagine we all would have a playlist with all the songs we used to love but forgot about a lot of them would bring back memories bonded to joy some would bring back memories bonded to persons we almost forgot too and some may bring back all the memories we associate with pain and agony but we would still listen to 'our' songs
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Apr 17, 2020
Apr 17, 2020 at 6:35 AM UTC
songs of our life
A cheesy 70’s drama soundtrack And the choppy muttons An 80’s sitcom opening theme With the track of fake laughs A 90’s epic movie ending credits Award winning sweeping songs These things are now vintage And priceless if you actually lived them
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Mar 15, 2020
Mar 15, 2020 at 1:39 AM UTC
Simpler time sounds
Under the light of the moon. You’re still a mystery to me. And every night in my dreams I wonder if you hear the soundtrack of my soul. Like I hear yours.
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Jan 9, 2019
Jan 9, 2019 at 3:27 PM UTC
11:11pm
a feature of drama now in her proposal my palpable fave of penetrable cave as starlet's life in director of dream she dance her tassel to this soundtrack of ska with a street presence
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Oct 4, 2018
Oct 4, 2018 at 10:15 AM UTC
a feature
You are my "almost" an "almost" that I'll never have, but still hoping for you to come back. I guess, I'll just be stucked, with our favorite songs; and soundtracks that we had jammed — together. I was wrong. This won't last... forever.
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May 25, 2018
May 25, 2018 at 9:05 AM UTC
Almost
you are the soundtrack to my life. your breath is the rhythm to my walk. your heartbeat is my refrain.
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May 18, 2018
May 18, 2018 at 9:44 PM UTC
songs have titles. this doesn't.
There is an inherent musicality To your bare humanity A soundtrack to what makes you human There's a rhythm to your movements There's harmony in your breathing There are chords in your voice There's​ a deliberate delicacy to your touch As if you care deeply about an instrument There's a tempo to the way you love And notes in your laugh And there are so, so many kinds of music In your solo act.
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Jun 6, 2017
Jun 6, 2017 at 12:08 AM UTC
Your Solo Act
I travel trough the heavy rain I sit lonesome on a lonely train I play blues These days are grey,  these nights  are blue my mind keeps coming back to you I play the blues I travel with desire Past houses lit on fire I play jazz Windows lit by sundown My train-seat old and rundown I play jazz Rainbow roads in colored blurr Pretty little towns I'm sure I play swing Past mirror waves and open sky My stomach tingles, wonder why I Play swing ***** feet on ***** train Skin so white I see my veins I play punk Impatient taps and flickering lights Soon the day will turn to night I play punk Head in the clouds, mind at ease Longing for the morning breeze I play Pink Floyd Memories hanging from branches Passengers sharing brief glances I play Pink Floyd I'm coming home, I'm on my way, but I travel still... I travel not by force... yet not by will Music of choise as soundtrack to the silent film beyond the windowsill
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May 30, 2017
May 30, 2017 at 9:56 AM UTC
Train ride to nowhere
I found you/ a musical note in a pond full of static we made a soundtrack that no one ever heard drowned out by sirens a gap that just widens you were my unique find I'd do anything for you but stay
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Mar 26, 2017
Mar 26, 2017 at 1:42 PM UTC
Untitled
You're listening to random radio stations, on your way home, Thinking this could be the soundtrack of your day to day life.. A little bit of Cohen and some Cigarettes after *** would easily do the trick. You're just another unknown genius, waiting to be discovered - an original copy of the "real deal". Your parents must be very proud! You have that look.. you know what I mean? THAT look. The ones surrounding you are nothing more than Extras in your daily 7 o'clock show, filmed in front of a live audience. Your big break is just around the corner, hiding in some bushes and you must really feel smart right now, with your old and wise attitude, thinking 'bout the planet and all that **** having the impression that you changed something in this world, on your way back from work.. something else than this rusty game of useless words, that the rest of your family doesn't really care about. Your one man show is about to be moved in the better slot and you'll finally get to stick your face on a Snickers' bar campaign. "You're not you when you're happy!" You'll get off soon. Remember to smile and wave. Remember to forget.
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Nov 18, 2016
Nov 18, 2016 at 8:46 AM UTC
#jingle
Throughout this soundtrack that I call my life, your heart is the beat, your voice is the lyrics, your soul is the slow and steady rhythm, your kisses are the chorus and your face is the album art. Without you, I would never hear music the same again.
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Nov 3, 2016
Nov 3, 2016 at 6:47 PM UTC
SoundTrack
Don’t get me wrong, I looooove the sunshine. I love the smell the t a s t e the way it thaws my cheek bones and warms my shoulders But, these rainy days instill something deeper, calmer, even 
 everyone is home; wherever that may be 
 going about their lives 
listening to the same drizzly soundtrack
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Aug 11, 2016
Aug 11, 2016 at 11:55 AM UTC
Untitled
We sat outside the coffee shop next to a fire, watching the sun set behind decrepit buildings. I lamented over the lack of a roller rink in the area, reflecting on memories of wobbling around in circles with dizzying lights and blaring speakers ejecting Pink, Daft Punk, and Eiffel 65 onto my critical youth. I felt like a king. We finished our smoothies and retreated to an empty hotel parking lot, where I taught her to skateboard. One foot over the front bolts, the back foot over two of the back bolts but resting over the tail, kick, push, it's in the ***** of your feet-- weight distribution. Tic, tac, scrape, thud-- she falls repeatedly and gets back up. I admire her resilience and perpetual smile-- This is what skateboarding is all about. We roll around the hotel parking lot, our endpoints being a lone luminescent lamppost and a telephone pole beleaguered by a plot of shrubbery that demarcates itself from the pavement. We circle around the poles for hours, forming an imaginary oblong track between the two, our laughs carrying into the cool summer night lullaby that sang the drowsy small town to sleep. The fading throb of the wedding reception at the bottom of the town square by the wharf, carrying over to us. The stores closed up hours ago, silent empty windows reflecting the lonely streetlights and our ambulance back at us. We skated on unperturbed into the night hour. A man walks outside the hotel to have a cigarette on the sidewalk-- I imagine he is watching us and admiring our glee. Rolling between this telephone pole and lamppost, the glare and reflection of the empty silent windows, the soundtrack singing above our heads, our laughs, and the tic-tac of skateboards and groaning of wheels over stubborn pavement bringing my melancholic reverie to a halt, recognizing and understanding happiness in the present moment-- This is my roller rink.
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Jun 12, 2016
Jun 12, 2016 at 1:13 AM UTC
Roller Rink
We sat outside the coffee shop next to a fire, watching the sun set behind decrepit buildings. I lamented over the lack of a roller rink in the area, reflecting on memories of wobbling around in circles with dizzying lights and blaring speakers ejecting Pink, Daft Punk, and Eiffel 65 onto my critical youth. I felt like a king. We finished our smoothies and retreated to an empty hotel parking lot, where I taught her to skateboard. One foot over the front bolts, the back foot over two of the back bolts but resting over the tail, kick, push, it's in the ***** of your feet-- weight distribution. Tic, tac, scrape, thud-- she falls repeatedly and gets back up. I admire her resilience and perpetual smile-- This is what skateboarding is all about. We roll around the hotel parking lot, our endpoints being a lone luminescent lamppost and a telephone pole beleaguered by a plot of shrubbery that demarcates itself from the pavement. We circle around the poles for hours, forming an imaginary oblong track between the two, our laughs carrying into the cool summer night lullaby that sang the drowsy small town to sleep. The fading throb of the wedding reception at the bottom of the town square by the wharf, carrying over to us. The stores closed up hours ago, silent empty windows reflecting the lonely streetlights and our ambulance back at us. We skated on unperturbed into the night hour. A man walks outside the hotel to have a cigarette on the sidewalk-- I imagine he is watching us and admiring our glee. Rolling between this telephone pole and lamppost, the glare and reflection of the empty silent windows, the soundtrack singing above our heads, our laughs, and the tic-tac of skateboards and groaning of wheels over stubborn pavement bringing my melancholic reverie to a halt, recognizing and understanding happiness in the present moment-- This is my roller rink.
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my thoughts are headphones left in someone's back pocket for too long // I've always wanted a pillow that said "home sweet home" but recently I realized I don't know where home is // I thought you were going to be my angel, but Lucifer was once an angel, too // there's a hose running into my lungs and I thought you were turning the water off but instead you were slowly trying to drown me // I never understood how you could love someone if all you loved was their body // you promised me gardens but you forgot to water them // you once told me you loved me but immediately took it back and I still wonder if you were joking or you really felt as strongly about me as I did for you // you asked me if I ever felt like ripping myself to pieces and I almost told you "every night since you left" but instead I quietly shook my head and said "no" // I won't ask you if you ever loved me because you'll never tell me the truth -m. j. g.
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Feb 12, 2016
Feb 12, 2016 at 4:48 PM UTC
7.8.14
Saturday night sets in as a $1 Roy Hamilton's Greatest Hits record emits soft vocals and mellow horns from my speakers. The intermittent crackling and popping scratches against my insides as I strain to think of anything and everything but you. The warm melodies are reminiscent of the warm summer nights when we first began to share time and hidden parts of ourselves, drifting into a rhythm that swung me one-two-three, waltzing into a haze of unexpected love. Little did I know the romantic waltz would drastically switch tempo, up and pounding, beating behind my eyes and against my skull as I heard the sounds of you scurrying toward the nearest exit, tangoing away from me, and snatching my heart along with you. And in came the sound of blues, slow, sultry, and so full of a longing for he who lead me in a dance I had thought would never end.
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Aug 8, 2015
Aug 8, 2015 at 10:30 PM UTC
The Soundtrack of Other Summers
I love the feeling when a song comes on and suddenly you find yourself lost deep in a memory you forgot to actively remember until now. The soundtrack to the summer of '09 when I would drive 6 hours with the windows down, the wind and the bass from the speakers in my Honda Civic creating harmony in G major, the hot sun beating against my sweat-speckled skin. And a couple notes strung along my eardrum as I reappear in tears after you told me you'd leave me if I refused to give you what you wanted, a melody mixed with my pathetic, incurable obsession with pleasing you and some serious self-loathing. And then I hear a tune that sounds reminiscent of the soft ripple from the waves the river made as I smoked a J and wrote about my days away from home, desperately seeking to figure out who I really am when I'm completely alone. Songs that remind me of sunsets and old jokes and the sand between my toes; rhythms of bare feet pittering and splashing in sprinkler water on squishy, damp grass, of  French phrases and crunchy baguettes that I chewed on in Dijon, of day parties with plastic cups and ping pong ***** where we used college courses and boy drama and undefeated seasons as reasons to binge on cheap ***** and beer. I hear a bridge, and I cross the river where I tread water for 4 years as I waited for you to meet me halfway, and I drowned in your lies and mind control. Chorus of Christmas mornings with homemade cookies, joyful jamboree of after-school dance sessions in my parents' kitchen, prom night poses and people we still laugh at. First kisses reverberating in headphones and mouths belting names of forgotten friends. The soundtrack to my life, a collection of good time genres and painful classics, number one hits and one hit wonders I cherish equally, my taste as vast as the memories contained in the music.
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Mar 15, 2015
Mar 15, 2015 at 3:30 PM UTC
Sound Check
I love the feeling when a song comes on and suddenly you find yourself lost deep in a memory you forgot to actively remember until now. The soundtrack to the summer of '09 when I would drive 6 hours with the windows down, the wind and the bass from the speakers in my Honda Civic creating harmony in G major, the hot sun beating against my sweat-speckled skin. And a couple notes strung along my eardrum as I reappear in tears after you told me you'd leave me if I refused to give you what you wanted, a melody mixed with my pathetic, incurable obsession with pleasing you and some serious self-loathing. And then I hear a tune that sounds reminiscent of the soft ripple from the waves the river made as I smoked a J and wrote about my days away from home, desperately seeking to figure out who I really am when I'm completely alone. Songs that remind me of sunsets and old jokes and the sand between my toes; rhythms of bare feet pittering and splashing in sprinkler water on squishy, damp grass, of  French phrases and crunchy baguettes that I chewed on in Dijon, of day parties with plastic cups and ping pong ***** where we used college courses and boy drama and undefeated seasons as reasons to binge on cheap ***** and beer. I hear a bridge, and I cross the river where I tread water for 4 years as I waited for you to meet me halfway, and I drowned in your lies and mind control. Chorus of Christmas mornings with homemade cookies, joyful jamboree of after-school dance sessions in my parents' kitchen, prom night poses and people we still laugh at. First kisses reverberating in headphones and mouths belting names of forgotten friends. The soundtrack to my life, a collection of good time genres and painful classics, number one hits and one hit wonders I cherish equally, my taste as vast as the memories contained in the music.
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