The mathematician closes his eyes as the sound in his headphones blossoms and weeds out the noise of the 747. Two hundred feet of metal wings are carrying his body. His mind has joined the flight to distant lands, carried by 138 BPM of… of what? Music? Such a limited word!
What he can perceive is much more than sound. It is exquisite emotion. It is a sense of space and freedom and power and contentment. It is happiness. Distilled, crystallized and pure.
It was years ago when he realized how strong the bond between music and memory can be. And it has been his obsession ever since. There is a song for the color blue and roller-blading under the burning sun, there is a song for staring into a pair of burning blue eyes as their heart breaks and there is a song for burning pain after having fallen from the blue sky. He saw his most memorable moments drenched in music and heard music opening the floodgates of memories half-forgotten. He encoded melancholy in the voice of an Irish singer, caressed hope with the beats of a Maltese electronic duo and found strength in a famous Dutchman’s melody.
He became a collector of soundtracks.
But today is different. Today he is intentionally creating his soundtrack. This song with a prophetic title is to embody what this journey means to him. Gratitude for dreams coming true. Appreciation for his freedom to travel wherever his wayfaring will wishes. Excitement about meeting foreign cultures. Anticipation of kissing the lips of a miss(ed).
No enumeration can encapsulate the boundless continuum of the moment. He wants to fully feel it all and let its heartbeat resonate in every single beat of the song’s eight minutes six seconds. The music flows, and fast; this memory will stand and last.
Basking in euphoric synaesthesia he opens his mesmerized eyes and watches the people traveling with him. Where are they flying? What hopes, dreams, desires, darlings, destinies await them beyond the gates of Terminal 1? If he alone in eight minutes six seconds can construct a whole galaxy of meaning in his mind, how many universes of life are traveling on this plane? How many will collide and reunite in the arrival hall? And what soundtracks will be playing and weaving the fabric of their stories?
As ornate as the vast domes of clouds around the plane, as uplifting as the bright sun rays shining through the windows, as unbound as life itself, music is always playing. Through smiles and tears, through ascent and fall. Plato once said that God is a geometer. He was wrong. Faithless defined the true faith. God is a DJ. And sometimes… we join him at the turntables.