What came first, the music or the misery? Did I listen to music because I was miserable? Or was I miserable because I listened to music? Do all those records turn you into a melancholy person?
People worry about kids playing with guns, and teenagers watching violent videos; we are scared that some sort of culture of violence will take them over. Nobody worries about kids listening to thousands - literally thousands - of songs about broken hearts and rejection and pain and misery and loss. The unhappiest people I know, romantically speaking, are the ones who like pop music the most; and I don't know whether pop music has caused the unhappiness, but I do know that they've been listening to sad songs longer than they've been living the unhappy lives.
A man who wants to die feels angry and full of life and desperate and bored and exhausted, all at the same time; he wants to fight everyone, and he wants to curl up in a ball and hide in a cupboard somewhere. He wants to say sorry to everyone, and he wants them to know just how badly they've all let him down.
You need as much ballast as possible to stop you from floating away; you need people around you, things going on, otherwise life is like some film where the money ran out, and there are not sets, or locations, or supporting actors, and it's just one bloke on his own staring into the camera with nothing to do and nobody to speak to, and who'd believe in this character then?
You see those pictures of people in Pompeii and you think, how weird: one quick game of dice after your tea and you're frozen, and that's how people remember you for the next few thousand years. Suppose it was the first game of dice you've ever played? Suppose you were only doing it to keep your friend Augustus company? Suppose you'd at just that moment finished a brilliant poem or something? Wouldn't it be annoying to be commemorated as a dice player?
Here's the thing about Maureen: She had a lot more guts that I had. She'd stuck around to find out what it would feel like, never to live the life she had planned for herself. I didn't know what those plans were, but she had them, same as everybody, and when Matty came along, she'd waited around for twenty years to see what she'd offered as a replacement, and she was offered nothing at all. There was a lot of feeling in that slap, and I could imagine hitting people pretty hard when I was her age, too. That was one of the reasons I didn't intend ever to be her age.
