Voyassitude

I was stuck, for sure.
Stuck in anxiety. Stuck in a depressive episode. Stuck in the ravenous urge to run away from everything and everyone, including myself. That had to be the reason why I was 7,000 kilometers away from home, sitting alone on the ground right in front of El Yeso Dam.
It was the clear, crystalline morning any Instagram influencer would dream of. My first full day in Chile began with a day tour leaving from Santiago at 7 a.m., and four hours later, we had reached the highlight of the adventure: Cajón del Maipo. A narrow valley with national monuments, reservoirs, and towns where nature predominated as far as the eye could see, Cajón del Maipo emerged like the kind of haven I’d desperately looked for as I fought some of the most difficult times I’d experienced in recent years.
Despite being 2,500 meters above sea level, the early morning chill soon dissipated thanks to the sun that arose behind the Andes Mountains. Sunshine played with the reservoir’s surface, providing a gleam of life to it, aggrandizing its charm. I was a bit overwhelmed, but I had music with me to soothe my spirit.
I’m so meticulous about the music I listen to while on a trip that I had already chosen the song for that one location. It’s called “Wars” by Of Monsters And Men. But something in the air, perhaps, something about that morning and the place I was wandering around, combined with another tune from the same band; I couldn’t stop listening to it. It drilled through me, opening up a passage until it reached the rock, the black hole, the incalculable weight I’d been carrying for a while.
I needed a moment to myself. I walked away from the tour group, reached the reservoir’s shore, touched its heavenly blue waters. I then sat on a rock that left my black outfit beyond dirty. I did turn off the music for some minutes to reflect on a million things. But then headphones came back and Of Monsters And Men reappeared.
“Stuck in Gravity.” Four minutes and twenty-four seconds long. I don’t even pay attention to lyrics most of the time, and thank God I don’t, because if I had taken notice of the lines in this song, I might have shattered beyond repair by the reservoir. No, for me it was all about the peak of the song, right when it hits the 3:12 minute mark. Synthesizers have a special spot in my heart, and this particular riff just sent shockwaves through me. I was exhilarated and devastated, I was demolished and built anew. I fell, I felt, I floated over my long-time misery and made an attempt to slash it from myself to throw it into that Chilean lake.

Staring out the window
Looking at the rainfall
Hoping for a starlight
Head is still an animal

I’m not good with lyrics, but I did learn that verse. I also had some work to be done regarding my mental health. I didn’t magically stand by a reservoir in Chile and free myself from depression, no. It took some effort before, during, and after that trip. But that moment was crucial. And the song? Even more so. It’s become so important to me that it is now disassociated from that specific trip, accompanying me to new places whenever I need a dopamine rush, all thanks to its enthralling zenith.