Back in the CD rotation...From the bottom shelf

I found a CD tonight that I haven't listened to in...God, was I still at McGill the last time I heard it? Listening to the haunting sublime voice, the languid, weepingness of it... and droning guitar riffs of Mazzy Star. The songs magically transform the sadness into something beautiful, poignant and ultimately powerful. I was taken back to another place, another time in my life. It got me thinking, on so many levels. I still recall hearing 'Fade into you' so often on the local and college radio stations, and never figuring out at the time who the artist was. I remember being overwhelmed by the sadness in her voice, and not understanding half of the lyrics...but it didn't matter. The music and feeling I would get when listening to the albums were like nothing I've felt, then or ever since. It's hard to describe. If you can put yourself back into a local pub, sitting in the dimly lit, sticky floor, beer stench trying to drown your sorrows for some purpose that, at the time, meant the end. No need to wash the painkillers down with a bottle of wine today. Now, say 10 years later, I realize that the immediate moment didn't matter, but the feeling lasts a lifetime. There are some things that stick, some feelings that cling like gum in your hair. But its these gluey experiences that don't actually kill us but force us to be stronger, to stand up and be who we are suppose to be with intense emotions. Fate? Karma? Divine intervention? Whatever, I like the dreamy atmosphere in the room tonight. Tonight I dream, tonight I remember, tonight I am transported back. I find myself asleep while I'm awake, pondering lost loves and hazy afternoons in bed and intoxicated. I recall all the moments that ended, even though I never wanted them to...the moments I'd long since forgotten. The experience would be complete if it were a rainy day...I'm listening to a lullaby.