Shorter Than a TV Show

"Why do you keep listening to the same song all over again? You've been listening to the same song a hundred times today." my friend asked.

Whenever such a question pops up, I usually blame it on my stupid ADHD brain. But now that I think about it, it's not only about song. I can't recall the moment I moved forward from the last episode of Bojack Horseman Season 1, OR me re-watching Little Miss Sunshine once tri-annually. Not to mention Tuesdays with Morrie by Mitch Albom that I re-read once in a month, perhaps.

Skip backward, I went to Paris last week to watch a concert; of course, a singer that I learned all of her songs by rote. And why is that? Because I kept repeating one of her albums b-o-i-s-t-e-r-o-u-s-l-y for the past couple of weeks. It will be a fun, yet expected night, my thought.

However, an unfamiliar melody of a tinkle on the piano warmed up the starting act. It was Katie Gregson-MacLeod. It was my first time watching her performance. I got highly strung by her soft voice, but her lyrics..

"So tell me that we've reached an end.

And say you have to go.

Was it almost love?

Was it nothing close?

Cause the call was shorter than a TV show.

Did you bite your tongue?

Did you really have to go?

Cause the call was shorter than the bus ride home.

Did I even make a dent?"

It was supposed to be fun, and expected night, my thought.

It was.

Yet uneasy.

What if, my tendency to re-watch or to re-listen to the same thing all over again because I already know what is going to happen next? What if, I do that to myself because I am creating a sense of safety, letting the voices in my head dulled down because I know everything that is said or happens?