Everyone has that one favourite CD that they used to play on loop. It may come with a sticker on it's shiny plastic cover, proclaiming bonus tracks, or posters. Or in some cases - 'buy one get one free!'. The cover probably isn't all that shiny anymore, the plastic probably scratched and worn, cracks from careless storage crushing the flimsy covering.. But you don't mind because the memories that go with it are just so fantastic, and anyway - the CD plays just fine. (Or maybe you do mind, you anal bastard. But I'm ignoring you lot for now.)
You know that as soon as the first tune plays you'll be singing along, vague smile gracing your face and for a moment you're somewhere else. Down the highway, cruising with the windows down and the wind messing up your previously perfect hair. In your room, tears running down your face, pillow in hand, and your constantly vibrating phone sitting ignored in the corner. Next to your best friend, hands clasped tight and voice hoarse from the screaming because the vocalist is so hot, and watching them live is worth skipping meals for.
Once upon a time, it was all you played. You know every song, and the order it comes in, and you're already anticipating the next song.
But today.. The case is cracked, and the CD worn. The songs skip or gets stuck, the scratches did their damage. So now it sits quietly in corner, gathering dust.
Some items just aren't meant to last forever. I don't have the heart to throw it out just yet, but when there isn't any more space left in my cluttered room, I'll say goodbye.
And some friendships just aren't meant to stand the test of time. I'll always root for you, and I'll always wish you the best. Maybe it's a telling sign that our memories are better conversation material than our current lives.
1 comment:
I don't know about you but I promise and swear I never ever will voluntary part with Dylan's "Blonde on Blonde", The Beatles' "Sgt Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band" and Jimmy Hendrix's "Electric Ladyland". Not CDs; LPs of course.From the stone-age of the sixties.
I never use my old turntable any more. But I rather cut my right arm than I will abandon these precious gems of youth.
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