Bittersweet Symphony

I think the Verve got it right in the fact that life truly is a “Bittersweet Symphony.” Granted, not exactly in the same way they thought of that you go through life horribly alone from everything in society, just trying to find your place in life. I already know where my place in life is spiritually and occupationally, but my loneliness is the lack of the true wants and dreams I have in my life.

To be honest, I fucking hated that song with a passion when it first came out. Everywhere you turned those same four violin notes were everywhere. From radio, to film, to Nike commercials, you couldn’t avoid it. It was like my own personal hell every 30 seconds when the Verve would show up somewhere else in my ears. Now it’s ten years later, and that same unbelievable opening is one of the most peaceful, melodic, and zen-like trances there could ever be in life. The world seems entirely at balance with four simple violin notes over and over again. But now a days, people have all but refused to remember what kind of bittersweet symphony life can be and have pushed it to the back of the nickel and dime rack of some sidewalk sale you find during a lazy summer day at a poppy conglomerate music store at the mall. If you bring the song up, people will give a laugh and a smile about how funny times were in the past as if they can instantly make a connection between the beauty of one of the greatest songs in a decade to the sheer stupidity that zuba pants brought us in the same 5 year span.

So there’s my bittersweet symphony. I’m left all alone with the peace and harmony of life, love, and the Verve. Once I’ve come around to what beauty truly is, it’s all just a gag and joke to the rest of the universe who at one time had the exact dream that I want to full fill now. The only difference is they want to be dreamers rather than doers. That’s why you buy the Verve for a nickel, the Backstreet Boys for five bucks, and Gwen Stefani for twenty. People don’t want to fulfill their dreams. If they reach their goals, then where’s the fun in having a dream to look forward to. For those of us who are too stupid to follow this creed of life, we are left alone trying to complete our dreams so we can actually live them, but are instead left alone at two in the morning listening to 1997 on a constant loop.

I can still remember when Caroline called to break up with me because Steve had asked her out. The only problem with that was she was at the time dating me. One quick call to get rid of me and everything was all set. The call lasted all of two minutes, and while she never officially came out and told me, it was all too obvious. It wasn’t a shocker to me when the selfish womanizer kept ditching her at every turn, with my guess to make out with other girls who have boyfriends at the time. This is the way I think these things work. Anyways, Caroline is furious, add in her parents divorce and she was really starting to loose it with only one person to turn too. So there I was trying to be the good Sumerian and help someone out who’s being thrown a vicous splitfingered curveball. And that’s probably the biggest mistake of my life. Not allowing Caroline back in to my life because all in all, she really didn’t mean that much to me. But the being a nice guy… this is the shit that starts the snowball rolling, and it doesn’t stop until you’re left with nothing but anger, dreams of why life can’t become a John Cusak movie for once, and an unreal state of meditation brought on by “Bittersweet Symphony” that makes no sense what so ever.

Caroline would have left me for Steve the second time if he didn’t fuck her over for a second time and leave her with the disgraceful consolation prize of me the nice guy. She became so disgusted with this, she broke up with me quickly for some skeevy Puerto Rican DJ and I’ve never seen her since. But I can still remember both times her telling me how I was such a nice guy and how hard it was for her to do this, and how it’s not me but her and just something in her head. Like I said, all in all, she really didn’t mean much to me, but those words will forever stick with me because it has become the mantra to every relationship I’ve ever had in life.

Every time “she’s” sorry because I’m such a nice guy and everything “she” should like. It’s never anything wrong with me, but something in her head. It just so happens that something else is some ass hole womanizer who can’t wait to hit on the next taken girl and then fuck her over as soon as I’ve gotten the “you’re a nice guy” speech and heartbreak. Really it’s just been a constant failure to the Steve’s of the world, just that sometimes they work at jobs their mommies got them as shoe salesmen in the mall, other times they get so drunk they don’t even know who they’re calling, and other times they only want to womanize and fuck said girls over for their own personal lust in melancholy and self-loathing. Seriously: why do girls go nuts for guys who are happy being depressed but those who are legitimately saddened get the shaft and are forced to remain heartbroken and devastated wondering if things could have been different if their mommies got them jobs as a shoe salesman.

It’s been a life of rejection, even when all you have to offer is everything any girl could ever dream about. They say about what they want in the perfect man, a checklist of things I’ve done for them, but no one wants that perfect dream to come true. That’s why the beauty and total peace of “Bittersweet Symphony” was ditched for the talentless shit mongrels known as the Backstreet Boys. I guess it would come to no one’s surprise that Caroline bought “Millenium” in the first week of its release. But what else can you expect from someone who takes a shoe salesman who has fucked her good before over a nice guy who fits what she wants.

But I guess if ass holes and the Backstreet Boys weren’t popular, MTV’s entire spring lineup would be the greatest hits by the Verve, and I wouldn’t be here relating my sorrowful tale. And it all begins so innocently…