musical moments: chino's voice

"Okay," I say to Prim. "We're doing an experiment. I want you to listen to this song and tell me if it makes you feel depressed."

"Okay?"

"Everyone says this music gets them so down, but for me it's the opposite. This music makes me feel awake. Alive. Like I can take on the world. Alright, get ready."

"Okay. Checking my depression levels now."

I press play.

"Well," I say when it's over. "How do you feel?"

"Well, I wouldn't say I'm depressed, but my mood is going toward the direction of depressed."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes."

"Damn it."

Now I'm pissed.

I think this is why I'm not allowed to pick the music on family trips. Or anytime I'm in the car actually. My family hates my music; they think it's the worst. It's too loud, there's too much screaming, too much anger, blah blah blah. They call it devil music, but I call it ART. 

"It's self-expression," I say. 

They think I'm dumb.

But I remember back to a day on my mission when I got an email from my sister. A song had come up on her Spotify, and she sent me a photo of the title. It was one of my favorites, one that I've listened to since high school, that I know every word to, that has these dramatic emo lyrics: "I watched a change in you, it's like you never had wings." Ha ha. 

"This song is so you," my sister said. And I laughed out loud in the internet shop and smiled so big, so bright and happy because she was listening to something that made her think of me. Even if it was devilish.