My ever-so-insignificant relationship with music

I’m writing this entry while listening to my OPM rock playlist. I thought of writing about music because of an incident that happened last Saturday. While I was folding our clothes, I was listening to Tyla’s “She did it again.” My husband laughed and told me how I told him in the past (before we became a thing) that I only listen to songs that aren’t synthesised. Songs that you can hear the instruments in the background. It made me chuckle, too. My music taste has gone through a lot that I don’t even know what my music genre is now. It’s all over the place. I usually just listen to whatever my mom and dad were playing on the player. My dad would mostly listen to soft rock songs from the ’80s and the ’90s. My mom specifically loved diva hits, Celine Dion, Whitney Houston, Regine Velasquez. Anything that makes you scream, that’s her jam. Quick anecdote: I saw a dude listening to walkman on the subway last week, and I thought it was awesome. Then, I got introduced to OPM thanks to the…