a blurry night in hd

 "Post-concert amnesia," a common phenomenon where concertgoers struggle to recall specific details from a highly stimulating event, is often attributed to sensory overload, emotional highs, and physical/emotional exhaustion, which can impair memory formation”

I have that. Exactly that. If you ask me how my evening went, I’d say “NO CLUE!” If you ask me how was the venue? I’d say “I don’t remember!!” If you ask me, what’d you wear to the concert? I’d say lemme check the pictures I took. Basically, if I did not have access to my camera phone camera, and the gazilion videos and photos I took with it, I would have a very tough time believing that I actually attended my first every “concert” concert. 

So dearest gentle readers, be prepared for some very incoherent and overly dramatic paragraphs because, I, the author of this very incoherent and overly dramatic blog, had the privilege of jumping and screaming at a Role Model Concert on the 6th of April, 2025, in the emerald city of Seattle, on an extremely gloomy and cloudy and rainy day (adds to the vibessss) and now can’t stop thinking about it, because I am trying to remember what I actually experienced (with very little success) 

Let’s start with a little back story and see how we can connect this to New York now shall we? January 2025, sad and depressed to leave my home earlier than I’d planned, I was living in a hostel because my lease in Seattle wasn’t on till February. I was sad and depressed in New York so not the worst thing to happen to me but yeah, I was angrily roaming around the city during the day and frustratingly scrolling TikTok in the night. One such night, I came across edits of fictional ships to a song that went like:

Well, he's a loose cannon, foolish man who needs some medication

She's a shoe-tied, blue sky, honeymoon vacation

He's a fixer-upper, skipping supper, hates an obligation

She's a Friday night

I smiled. Because any book reading, rom com watching, hopeless romantic would smile listening to these lyrics. Very surprised at my smile, I iked the video, so of course I saw even more TikToks to this sound. Another sound kept popping up on my feed, and this one was pretty catchy so I looked up the song on YouTube music and immediately played it a 100 times. (that’s just how it goes) Easily one of my most listened to songs of January. 

I noticed the name of the singer and a bulb went off in my head and I was like “ohhhhhh, he’s the guy from that GQ video with Emma Chamberlain that I was (kinda) obsessed with two years ago! ohh ohh also he’s also the guy from the music video that was shot on some street in New York 3 years ago that I was (kinda) obsessed with!!” Believe me, it was my first time being excited in WEEKS! I started listening to some of his most popular songs and then his tour videos started popping up on my feed too. Tour videos, interviews, fan interactions. I noticed, he too was obsessed with a certain someone called Harry Styles, had a weird sense of humor, and is an openly anxious person. He’s me! That was funny, I laughed. Again, first time in WEEKS! And then suddenly, thousands of videos of people singing a “unreleased song” of him started popping up, sometime in early February. You guessed it, Sally was out. And boy oh boy did he blow up. I got deeper into the Role Model TickTok and suddenly, my pop obsessed self was waking up from the grave she had entered when life got too much and real shit needed to be dealt with.

Anyways, you know the drill, you watch something, you like something, and bam Instagram shows you ads selling everything related to this something! So one fine Saturday morning early March, I have just opened my eyes to doom scroll while still tucked in bed, I got adds to the “No Place Like Tour” tour. Clicked on the ad, am on StubHub, and the next thing I know I have purchased tickets at resale price to a show a month later. THE most spontaneous decision and purchase ever made by me. I felt alive. For the first time in months, i had something to look forward to. Something that did not give me terrible anxiety but pure adrenalin. The four weeks leading up to the concert, however exhausting, seemed bearable. I realized, that one of the tiny boxes on my 2025 vision board was a picture of a concert off of Pintrest. And soon enough, I will be able to replace it with a picture of a concert I went to. My heart did a little somersault. 

What next? The day arrived, I dressed up, actually felt good about how I looked, listened to the setlist while booking my Uber, umbrella in hand, and I was out the house. 10 sweet minutes in the Uber, and a five minute walk later, I was at the very end of the queue of 1100 people waiting to enter the venue. So many people excited for the same thing. Agreed, most of them were teens, but that added to the fun. I kid you not, listening to their discussions, about college, and house parties, and relationships, and “who commented what on every person’s instagram” and who’s going to post what TikTok from tonight, was something of an experience in itself. I mean, I did go to the concert alone so that was the only thing keeping me occupied for the 40 minutes we waited in line but man how I missed being 16 at that time. We also passed around prints of a fun poster someone had designed as a fan project. Cute. 7 pm sharp, the line starts moving, everyone is all giddy and cold from the rain. We enter the venue, find a place to stand and prepare ourselves for what’s to come.

If I’m being honest, I was very anxious at this point. I was conscious, too aware of my surroundings, a little too warm because of an indoor venue, and feeling so so out of place. Foreign country, new city, first concert, alone. Most people came in groups, were clicking pictures, making transition videos, yapping, and having the time of their lives. And then there was me, standing in the middle of the chaos, hands folded, in attention. I wasn’t sure where to look, what to do. Should I scroll twitter? Should I pretend to text someone? Should I leave? (nope, did not think about leaving but it sounds dramatic so I went with it :)) Point being, I was scared I’m not gonna be able to enjoy the very thing I was sooooo looking forward to. But I powered through these thoughts for about 45 minutes before the pre-show music turned on and it was time to scream to Gracie and Chappel and Sabrina!! I kid you not, I have never felt so alive than when I was scream singing the bridge of “That’s so True” with 1100 other people. And I thought to myself, “Okay, I can have fun. I am having fun. This won’t be a terrible night”

What next? The opener Debbie Dawson (and her very, very, very, very, charming guitarist 👀) KILLED for 30 straight minutes. I did not kow she was south Asian too! represent!!! But she sounded so amazing! I might actually start listening to her songs I think. And when she lead the crowd to sing Party in the USA??? Ah, whatta vibe!!! After her set and a few more hype up songs, the diva, the man of the night, loser of People’s sexiest singer 2024, made a smashing entry to Writing’s on the Wall. I screamed. I screamed sooo loud, I sang soo loud that all my inhibitions, all my anxiety, all my fear left my body. And for the next 90 minutes, I was in another dimension.

The specifics of the night are a blurry highlight in my mind. Couldn’t tell you when it started, when it ended, or everything that happened in between. Wouldn’t be able to picture myself in that room. But what I do know — what I’m absolutely certain of — is that I felt alive and had the time of my life. I didn’t care how I sounded while scream-singing the songs I knew, and I didn’t care if anyone judged me for quietly taking in the ones I hadn’t memorized yet. I almost cried when he sang That’s Just How It Goes, and my heart ached when he sang Compromise. The speeches, the silly dances, the iconic Sally, the interludes, the dumb jokes — all of it came together to make this an experience of a lifetime.

Since that night, which was almost five days ago, I have caught myself saying this out loud, in front of the mirror, in the middle of the work day, while preparing to go to bed, numerous times - “there’s SO much to be alive for!” and “it’s okay if I’m tired of going to places alone but that doesn’t mean I have to stop having experiences I always dreamed about.” Because at the end of the day, I’m never again going to be 23, inside my fantasy, living life how it’s supposed to be lived - work hard, earn for yourself, make parents proud, bring your vision board to life, always look forward to your next trip to New York, and be grateful for the life you have. Funny, how a spontaneous decision one Saturday morning can help you put your whole life into perspective. 

Until next time, hopefully on a high from a trip to New York!

~ vee 🪐