ghosting - of somethings that remain lost
Mar. 19th, 2021 12:40 pm'Ghosting' is perhaps— or rather, most definitely— my most favorite song from the 'Minisode 1 : Blue Hour' album. Never have I ever come across a song that spoke so much to me. I remember anticipating it eagerly from the little bit I heard in the Highlight Medley, perhaps even more than the title track of the album itself. I just knew this song would hit me in a way no other song from the album would.
But what I least expected was for it to, almost literally, hit my heart directly.
The premise of the song is not anything cliché like talking about a ghost, or becoming a ghost. Rather, it’s about a very palpable fear that all of us have come across our lives at least once— the fear of being forgotten, of being left behind, by your friend more than anyone else.
The fear of losing a friend.
If you haven’t ever felt this, I’m really glad. Because it isn’t a nice feeling in any way, even if you are the person who will always choose to look at the bright side of things. It isn’t nice to have to constantly wonder and wonder if someone will ever be a good friend to you; if you will ever be a good friend to someone. If you’re too much, or too little; too normal or too extravagant; similar or different; involved or distant. It takes a while to understand and realize that it is impossible to please everyone, to be a friend to everyone and expect everyone to be a good friend to you. It’s impossible, it’s unimaginable, yet it is a hope that all of us have in the corners of our hearts, a thirst that can never be quite quenched, a hunger that can never be satiated.
It is an even more painful thing when you realize that the person you once thought of as a friend now stands nowhere near you, but in a place and space so unreachable that the only way ahead is to give up on reaching out.
According to the group, the song is about the situation where your friend has ‘ghosted’ you— a term, I came to know later, that was used for when a friend suddenly drops any and all kinds of contact with someone, leaving them in the dark.
(I’m not that old, trust me. I know the concept, just not the term).
I still remember the first time I listened to it— with bated breath, standing at the rooftop, staring at the sunset and the darkening sky.
The first notes of the song sound more like a looming whisper, a whisper of realization that escapes unconsciously. The song follows the wistfulness of those first notes. It almost feels like self-talk— the dreamy, slightly muffled tune, masking over like a thin veil; the lyrics that sound reminiscent of a time that is no more.
‘Ghosting’ is the story of one wondering out loud; wondering what happened.
Don’t we ask that a lot? What happened? What happened to this; to that; to them?
What happened to us?
A repeated question in life. A repeated question to oneself.
What happened to me?
The passing of time, the growth over it, the changes that occur.
Yet, nothing can quite answer a ‘what happened?’ properly, and especially not when the question itself is not defined. And the acute awareness of it brings a sense of numbness to everything around— the world greys for a while, everything dulls down.
This particular musing is what I feel like this song brings about. Not really expecting an answer, but helplessly asking the question anyway, just to let it out. Just to see it float in the air, away and afar. It’s further confirmed with the lines:
‘메아리만 멤도는 방에
In a room where only echoes linger
나 혼자서만 떠돌아 내내
I run in circles by myself
난 유령처럼
Like a ghost’
These particular lines punctuate the chorus as well, reinforcing the image of self-musing, at the point where one would have given up finding the answer, unbelievably tired and just wanting some reason for why it happened.
But what happened?
The lines after this answer it in succession.
Talking about unread messages when it used to be rapid conversations, a dialogue that turns into a monologue over time, which soon grows into radio silence— without a reason. There is nothing more painful than waking up one day and realizing that the person you thought was close to you is now no less than a stranger. And what hurts even more is seeing the change in them— they are familiar, but you are a stranger to them. Divided by miles and miles of differences, of changes, of something intangible, but very, very powerful and painful. The division brings a strange sort of nervousness,
And there is an effort made, there are efforts made and questions asked endlessly to know what happened to result in this change, but there is only so much effort one can put in to seek answer for a question when it seemingly does not exist. The first lines of the chorus explain this very feeling with its lyrics:
한순간 사라진 너 사-사라진,
You disappeared in one moment,
희미한 유령처럼 사-사라진,
You disappeared like a transluscent ghost,
허공에 묻곤 해, ‘난 너한테 뭐길레?’
I’m asking the empty air, ‘what am I to you?’
A blank question thrown in the air, with nothing to catch it. The nervous feeling of taking the next step when there is no ground beneath, or no one beside.
The song further progresses into the sense of loneliness that spreads in the mind, but exhaustion creeps in— tired. There is a point where everyone gets tired of trying, of putting in effort for something that is very much futile. Yet, the disbelief still lingers— ‘How did it happen? How did we separate; become strangers when we used to be the closest ever? I know I cannot do anything, but I still wonder: why?’
The bridge part manages to express this exact feeling, with its wistful tone and the first lines that convey a reserved dejection like no other.
사실 나도 알아, ‘대답없음’ 그게 대답인걸
To be honest I know it too, (that) ‘No Answer’ is the answer,
(익숙해지지 않아, 혼자가 되버린게)
(I cannot get used to it, that I am left alone)
However, the lines following these tells of holding onto a sliver of hope, even when everything is falling apart:
사진 속에 우리차람 어서 다시 돌아가야만해
Like the ‘us’ in the picture, we should go back again quickly
And the final line of the bridge, two words that revolve in the mind and in the heart even as the song reaches its end:
난 아직 여기 있는데 (난 아직 여기 있는데, 난 아직 여기 있는데)
I’m still here, though (I’m still here, though, I’m still here, though)
These lines, in my opinion, truly expresses the raw feeling of being left behind and being acutely aware of it. This is perhaps one of the parts that stand out the most through the song.
The vocals, too, compliment the content of the lyrics in the best way possible. The almost mist-y and muted vocals of the members create a haze-like feeling. I personally found a very specific scenario for it: late night, right outside a club, standing and staring at the sky instead of being inside and partying like everyone else, and simply waiting for something to wash over. The instrumental, too, supplements the feeling, giving an almost 90s vibe to the song.
In conclusion, ‘Ghosting’, as a song, is that feeling of endless waiting, of wanting something to end, but not even knowing what it is. It’s the nostalgia that washes over when you look through your mobile and find an old text message, or a picture of someone who you remembered fondly, but cannot find a reason as to why they were just a memory, and not with you right now. There are no complicated words used for the lyrics, but the way the words weave together to create a lingering feeling of doubt and regret , along with a calm resignation that gives a sense of ‘life goes on’, is perhaps, in my opinion, what makes this song stand out so much for me.
(if you read this long, thanks!)