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