Skylark and its Saudade

Note to readers:
I wrote a more fiction-like post, basically a short story, which talks about more or less the same thing this post does.

But it was written in a much more emotional way and I certainly added some imagination to it, making it a bit more sensuous, in a sense.
It is partly imagined, partly inspired and partly real.
I named the story 'Skylark and its Saudade'.

But since I wrote it with inspirations from my recent night out and memories from my favourite jazz bar  which just did its final gig before temporarily closing for renovation (thank god it's jus temporary!), I'm afraid the story is too fine a blend of imagination and real life incidents that would only confuse some of my readers.
So in order to prevent that, I'd rather not post it, at least for now.
For your information, I already wrote a disclaimer on the story which says: 'Any resemblance may not be coincidental'.

So before I'm ready to post of my fictional post, I give you this version of 'Skylark and its Saudade':

Skylark and its Saudade

Music is a language of emotions and memories.
A familiar song always have the magic power to time-travel me back to certain special moments, good or bad.

I seem to have this eternal weakness.
Whenever the restaurant plays a familiar tune or the bar plays some particular songs that give me dejavu, I'm always paralyzed with nostalgia and emotions.


There is something ineluctably seductive and addictive about jazz.
Jazz does things to me--makes me sway, makes me smile, makes me melancholy with nostalgia, soothes my sadness and also turns me on.
It always send a tinge of electricity to my ears and down my spine, awakens every cell in me and melts me at the same time.
Then leaves my body very slightly trembling, with a flicker of lust that linger on the ends of my hair and fingertips.


As the notes flow as deluge into my ears and hit my eardrums, an orchestra of synapses in my brain starts to play.
Then in a sudden snap of synapse, certain things, lines and words, random conversations just start echoing in my head.
Flashbacks of memories begin to flood me and cascade over me an avalanche of emotions.
Again. For the 236th time I guess.
And I go paralyzed for the rest of the day, or even days.

Sometimes music works the other way, when I feel terrible and in a split second when a tune, say a Jason Mraz song, hit my eardrums, serotonin level is back to normal and I'm in delight.

I guess I'm just an avalanche of emotions masqueraded under the shape of a woman.
Hey, I'm just a woman.


One thing I wanna say is that: I feel lucky as my most recent experience where music brings flashbacks of moments in my eyes, those were all precious happy memories that only put a smile on my face.

Thank you for all the pleasant memories.
And I'm glad that certain songs can bring back those memories as pleasant little surprises to warms my heart.

Love,
N

Note: in case anyone get curious, 'saudade' is not English, it's a Portuguese word.
Somehow, I don't quite like the English word 'nostalgia', so I always want to avoid it.
I wanted to use the Welsh word 'hiraeth' in replace of it, but I found the Portuguese word 'saudade' a better match to what I want to express.
And for alliteration purpose, it seems a better word to use for the title too.