The embarrassment is not mine

I like to listen to music that embarrasses me. 

I know the embarrassment is not mine but society's, so I disregard it and power through but this is still harder than you might think. 

I am "rocking out" in the sun of this spring day to a song from 1987 if I remember correctly but the band has been shunned by those in the know due to the singer's perceived massive ego and god complex. Fair enough, but the song while cringey, delights me. I won't listen to the album but I will listen to this song on repeat. 

I am young again and I can remember wanting certain things in my life and yet not knowing much at all about living. 

I am trying to remember what I want again and I still feel like I know nothing much at all. But the sun is in my eyes and the guitar slices through the air bringing with it momentary empowerment and dare I say hope. 

That's what "good" and "bad" art can do - it can change us, it can shake us and make us remember. Art wears a groove so deeply while it partners with our memories and melds with our emotions, that perhaps we can no longer watch that film, read that book, hang that painting, or listen to that album - it's like sad time travel. 

But sometimes, we can delve into the magic and feel better for it. It opens the door and welcomes us home.