I’ve revelled in the nostalgic pull of Spotify Wrapped in 2025. Music has always played a significant role in my life, despite having little to no talent for it. And I’ve found it somewhat ironic that I studied audio production in my tertiary years. I’m thankful to God for the wonders of music and the creativity of talented artists who can lift people’s moods. It is truly a gift to participate in song and dance, and to be inspired by it.
Spotify has neatly wrapped up my year in a bow, like a chronological photobook detailing various seasons. Both beautiful and ugly… and everything in between. From processing complicated romantic feelings alongside Rosé’s rosie (2024) in January and February, to remembering God’s goodness through the creativity and strong lyrical themes of Half Alive’s Persona (2024) in May and June, my year has been filled with an explosive mix of tunes otherwise not compatible by any means. For what ever reason, I have obsessively listened to songs on repeat, and I’m glad I’ve had the opportunity to do so.
This little archive of music has brought back many memories—most of which, I am glad to revisit. The excitement of anticipating my top songs, albums, and artists; the wonderings of whether I need to be embarrassed about my repeated listenings of the KPop Demon Hunters soundtrack (thankfully, Golden didn’t take my top song); and the conversational ammunition I’ve brought to my social circles have been such bursts of joy and novelty. Many months of the year weren’t easy, but music really pulled me through the dredges and out from under.
People often don’t know that the first mention in the Bible of someone being filled with the Holy Spirit was of an artisan skilled in craftsmanship, with the divine purpose of creating the Tabernacle. And while we don’t typically have such large callings today, I’m certain there is purpose in the craziness of our creativity. It is surely a God-given gift meant to bless others. Music does that. It inspires, lifts our moods, and changes our moody outlooks… but the opposite can also be true.
The comforting melodies I chose helped me set the scene for my 2025 soundtrack. Or perhaps my circumstances dictated where I gravitated. Somehow, it seems as if I’m still fighting my feelings and trying not to be carried away by them. Anger, insecurity, resentment, resignation—you name it, I fought tooth and nail to try and overcome them all. Yet, some of it remains, and I can’t help but hide the negativity behind my stoic exterior.
Sometimes, the rushed rhythms of my music fan the flames, and I allow it. Why? Well, if I let the anger consume me, I will at least have the energy to get out of bed. My pain has made me productive, perhaps even a little destructive, in my endeavours to become strong. I have broken my body and pushed myself to the extreme, all in an attempt to rebuild it into something that won’t ever let me get hurt again. And music has been both the fuel and the retardant in this dangerous cycle.
But everything leading up to this point has merely been a reminder that I am still weak. That I continue to feel the pain—perhaps not entirely like it was yesterday, but enough to remind me of my fragility—of memories tied to even the good things like music. I cannot bring myself to listen to any melancholy acoustic tune. In my mind, it still associates those grating notes as a danger to my being. It really does hit a nerve deep down.
As much as I’ve tried to overcome the panic, my throat hasn’t stopped closing on itself upon hearing that sound. Particularly the ones of Noah Kahan, Dylan Gossett, and Chance Peña. To me, that is the holy trinity of the mournful melody I know as betrayal. I wish I could tell you why it still shakes me to my core, and why it still affects me greatly. And I wish trauma wasn’t so hard to dispose of. But I hide it well. For I am far too ashamed to admit that it remains to hold some sort of twisted power over me.
At times, I am internally perturbed, breathing shallow breaths as inconspicuously as possible while maintaining that stoic facade on the outside. With the way I irregularly breathe, I swear I’m going to give myself an arrhythmia. But yes, it grieves me, and I persist through the physical suffering today. When I hear that sound, it’s like the air in every room is heavy and hard to swallow, or as if there are hands around my neck… stealing away the oxygen from my lungs. And I am brought back to that place of neglect once more.
They shared so much with one another. Many moments together without the distrustful gaze of these apprehensive eyes. A concert to an aforementioned artist they both loved and saw together, and by extension, a scarily similar taste in music that only fueled my insecurities more. And their lack of boundaries—they shared that flaw too. Logically, I know none of this matters anymore. The betrayals happened so long ago, and they led to a healthier path for me. Despite the time passed to process and heal, my body cannot fathom that I am now physically safe.
Music is a wonderful, wonderful thing. It is a brilliant medium for igniting passions, birthing new experiences, and inspiring others. But it is also true that it holds memories, sometimes unbearably painful, and can perpetuate unhealthy patterns. My 2025 soundtrack seems to have brought me through the storm with joy and peace in hand, but it has also dragged along anger associated with past harrowing moments. Isn’t it strange how something good can easily be turned into something bad?
水 