In Search of Perfection
It didn’t have to be of a particular genre, that would be determined by the usual passing of time and space.
He began his quest on the omnipotent, almost God-like entity known as Youtube. For a time he dabbled in Nigerian psychedelic rock and during this period he tried dropping acid a few times. His second trip went worse than the first, no one wants to see mushrooms sprouting from their big toe, nor elves scooping them out with teaspoons and sautéing them in hot butter over a portable gas stove. It isn’t normal, or indeed plausible elven pallets are much more refined.
As good as Nigerian psychedelic rock is, he didn’t believe the perfect song was to be found its often sinister chord vibrations. Afterwards he moved onto Japanese hip hop. He acquired a taste for sushi and purchased all the traditional utensils for its preparation. His friends couldn’t get enough. In the end his right arm grew tired from chopping.
Following this, he began exploring the underworld of Russian Neo-Nazi trash metal. He enjoyed immensely a few of the longer guitar riffs, but found the lyrics a tad aggressive for he wished his fellow niggers no harm and it would never have occurred to him to blow their brains out with a nail gun. Needless to say, for the duration of this episode his liver suffered greatly due to its drawn out saturation in vodka.
He then moved on to classical music from the Renaissance period. He took to reading literature from the same timespan and got so carried away that he bordered a ferry to France. Armed with a harpoon, he hoped to spear a white leviathan in memory of Ahab. The voyage was not successful.
After his return he continued in this manner for some months, delving into the darkest and most remote corners of Youtube — a land where few venture and even fewer escape its ensnaring tentacles with a completely sane grasp on reality He had found songs to create the ultimate playlist; and yet he knew he still hadn’t managed to unearth the perfect song.
He decided to venture outside the relative comfort of his flat once again. It was no easy feat for he hadn’t left the premises in over six weeks. He had resorted to nourishing himself on a mixture of cereal brands. These already dwindling rations had now dried up, figuratively as well as literally, as he had run out of milk. All this internet scouring was taking longer than anticipated.
He therefore decided to visit the local karaoke joint in order to survey the songs on offer. He was bitterly disappointed and wanted to slap his gloves across the face of the person behind the abominations that were raping his hearing canal. Simultaneously, a man in tight leather trousers showed the audience the lower part of his bulging belly as he lifted the microphone to the ceiling, held his head back and bellowed the last few lyrics of his song.
Having departed the smoky venue of lost souls, he began roaming the cobbled streets with no real destination in mind. It was a chilly Tuesday night in the later phases of September, and most people were taking refuge behind their closed front doors. He walked along a road that bordered one of the many canals. There existed a bar which he was familiar with, but he had grown socially awkward and didn’t dare enter alone. He stared at the entrance. An open wooden door that gave way to a descending staircase. He couldn’t compete with such an formidable entrée.
After pacing up and down the street numerous times, twice avoiding sweetcorn-speckled vomit, he still couldn’t muster up the courage to enter. Feeling bitter, frustrated, and a little forlorn, he abandoned his quest for the night and started making his way home.
He decided to go sit beneath a bridge, a spot he frequented as a child. It was a dirty place, the floor was littered with fag ends, used condoms, crisp packets and an assortment of other discarded rubbish. As he sat on the muddy ground, listening to the sludgy trickle of the river and the gentle rustling of the dying autumnal leaves, he suddenly felt at peace with the world.
Instinctively he took off his shoes and gradually emerged himself in the river. As he sunk to the murky bottom he let his limbs hang freely. All of a sudden he realized he couldn’t hear anything.
Silence. It was beautiful.