After reading Kenzie's (another blogger-turned-Live-Journaler) last entry about the flood of memories and emotions from listening to a CD that she used to listen to a lot.

"That's interesting," I thought.

So I tried it myself. I hunted through my CD's until I found one that I hadn't listened to with any regularity in almost two years. It was Jimmy Eat World's Bleed American. (The title of the album was changed to just Jimmy Eat World since, shortly after its release, terrorists crashed jets into the World Trade Center and the Pentagon. I bought my copy as soon as it came out, so it still says Bleed American)

I hadn't even started playing the CD and already I was remembering...

The morning of September 11th, I was awoken by my cell phone. It was Kendall, and she was in school. She frantically told me that planes were crashing into buildings. I was still half-asleep and wasn't really understanding what she was telling me. I stumbled out to the television and turned on the news. Sure enough, it was true.

My military training must have kicked in, because my emotions seemed to just shut off. The only thing I was thinking was "When we find out who is behind all of this we're going to absolutely destroy them." I watched the news for a bit longer to see if we, the public, were going to receive any special instructions. None came. Then, knowing that there was nothing I could personally do about it at the moment, I went back to sleep.

...I put in the CD and pressed the play button. I used to fall asleep to the music, so I lay down on my bed, turned off the lights, and closed my eyes.

I listened and recognized the lyrics that used to stir something inside me.

I want to always feel like part of this was mine

Well, that one still does.

I heard

If you still care at all/ don't go tell me now
If you love me at all/ don't call

and remembered exactly who I was thinking about every time I listened to that song.

And I'm still running away

Hmm...

So what would you think of me now?
So lucky, so strong, so proud?

Hmm...that line could very well be the grandfather of one of my blog entries.

On sleepless roads, the sleepless go

Hmm...

Driving 405 past midnight

I have always been a sucker for songs that mention Phoenix expressways (The Format, anyone?)

If you don't know, why would you say so?

I know who I was thinking of when I heard that, too.

Don't wanna thing from you
I'm going out, I don't care if you're angry

I took a bit of inspiration from those lyrics.

You'll change your mind come Monday/ And turn your back on me

The song outlined one of my fears at the time. It would be misleading of me not to say that it is still a concern of mine.

I don't seem obvious do I?

I find the idea of asking someone if you seem obvious hysterical, and I think it is being used tongue-in-cheek in the song also.

Then the CD ended, and with it, my exercise in reminiscence. I began to think of everyone else who had ever listened to the same album. All those thousands of people, focused on the same little disc of spinning plastic, listening to the exact same notes in the exact same order. But I know it's not the same. Probably not for a single one of those listeners.

Anyone can listen to the CD, or even just download all the songs, but they won't hear what I hear. All of the thoughts and emotions from the months of my life that the album contains, that it plays in the background of every track, can be heard only by me. The sometimes-feeble laser of my memory is the only thing that can pick those up.

The world inside my CD is mine, and mine alone.

So I guess what I'm saying is, thanks for the idea, Kenzie. And as far as making our team lose at Beer Pong goes, all is forgiven.

Update: Old Man Crohn pointed out that the 405 is in LA. I admit my mistake. I was actually thinking about the next lines, "Ninth and Ash on a Tuesday night." Oh, the dangers of blogging past midnight.