How can a song, just a simple collection of notes, make me feel things like this? I feel like I can transcend time and interact with my younger self, this time with the added background knowledge of what's going on. I'm a character in my own media. Granted, I'm very high, but I think I would feel this way anyway. That post about how what we're into at thirteen has such a marked effect on us for life was really right. I feel like music helped me discover that I had a soul. It would not be an exaggeration to say that for a few years, until my dad restricted my access, music was one of the few things keeping me alive. I didn't know how to express how I felt, and even if I had, I wouldn't have wanted to, since I didn't open up even to my friends or significant others, but bands like MCR could draw it out of me by sort of putting it into words, and holy shit, man. I smoked last night and listened to Helena, and I damn near cried. I did cry when Cancer came on awhile later. I remember listening to The Black Parade for the first time and feeling like there might be something to this whole "life" thing after all, and I wish I could just package up that experience and gift it to people, because wow it's nuts. Anyway, all of this is to say that I have listened to the Summertime that was in the Danger Days, and it was delicious 🌚 so fresh and moist 🌚 Holy shit dude!!!! I really felt it. Summer, 2013. Eighteen, wide-eyed, ready to take on the world. All the parties, the flirtations, the crushes, the nights out, Market Nights in downtown with Talia; adventures with the girls; nights spent in front of a computer when you're finally able to have some solitude, listening to music to keep the scary thoughts away, because although you scoff and try to hide it, you're scared of the dark. You stay up late every night, partially because you can't sleep, and when you try, you usually stay up reciting prayers anyway (isn't it nice to have OCD and religious trauma), but you make the most of it, writing, drawing, reading, studying-- and planning. You're going to do so much, help so many people! You'll be a lawyer, immigration, you're 95% sure, and from then on, it's a path to Supreme Court justice, whence you will right every wrong, oversee legislature to prevent there being any more wrongs, and generally create the kind of global utopia that keeps Republicans lying up at night biting their nails. And the air smells like oranges, and you still have half an iced coffee left, so is it really that bad that you have to fly across the country in two months? And is it bad at all, anyway? The world is open to every possibility, and so are you. Still, that welcome cool night breeze gets chilly sometimes, and you wonder what autumn will bring. You know in your heart that after this, you'll never see some of your friends again. Memories will fade, unrecorded, stories will be forgotten, people will drift apart. No one's life could end in tragedy-- surely not, not us, not our generation-- but there are so many places to go. This last golden summer, this little sliver of in-between life, trap it in amber, keep it forever between the plastic pony beads of childhood and whatever life will bring you next. All you have is now. You want each minute to last twice as long, and yet, even at the same time, you're reeling with impatience for the future. Sometimes, your heart feels like it could bleed with the passion you feel for everything you do or even could do, everything the world is, everything people are. How can you contain it? You take walks at night, never too far (you know your limits direction-wise, and don't want to get lost with no way of contacting home), listening to music and singing when no one's around, because you're afraid you'll burst if the energy inside you can't be entertained. You want a million things, want to save the world in a million different ways, and nothing will stop you. Not you. And you're so pretty, so sweet and charming, a perfect ingenue beloved by everyone around her, and you have people tripping over themselves to help you if you so much as bat your eyelashes, and you have talent, and promise, and you know this is all too good to last, golden child, but when the time comes, you'll fling yourself into oblivion with tears and a prayer, and you'll never look back. You're brave and resilient, always have been, and thank goodness for that, because as much as you've been through already, poor darling, it's nothing compared to what's coming. So enjoy this mayfly summer, dream until you ache, and don't think about tomorrow. You'll have forever after for that.