Taking a trip down memory lane today, the painful sort of memories, I let this album spin.  Every track took me back so clearly to that time, to that misery.  I remembered how small, how low I felt.  I remembered every angry moment, every tear shed at 3am as music looped on repeat, and how desperately I clung to each chord, each lyric.

I look to the marionette tattoo upon my ankle, the one inspired by this album’s artwork, and I remember how low I sunk, how far I’ve fallen since.  I still get that feeling, that anguished ache that plagued me in the year 2000.  But somehow, it always seems to ebb away and end.  Maybe someday, it won’t; for now, music is always there to break my fall and save me.

Day Eighty-One:  Famous – Finger Eleven