Sometimes you are home from college cause you graduated and although you feel accomplished, it sinks in that you don’t have a job yet or a future planned and you get really scared-out-of-your-little-mind and nervous about the uncertainty.
Sometimes this uncertainty drives you crazy and you just sit at your computer on job-searching websites for hours, not sure where to start and frustrated with the results.
Sometimes you take a break from this ridiculous search and decide to do something productive, like, say, clean your room that you haven’t lived in for 4 years completely.
Sometimes when you’re cleaning, you stumble across childhood artifacts and old notes that you used to pass to your best friend in middle school, speaking in codenames about the boys you liked and the dreams you had for when you grew up, and you read them with a 21-year-old mindset and it seems so hilarious and bittersweet to see how much you’ve changed, or rather, how much you really haven’t.
Sometimes, buried beneath the notes and old ticket stubs, you find your old green 2004 iPod mini, or rather, your first real love.
Sometimes you take this little iPod, and even though it seems ridiculous, you hook it up to charge and find yourself looking through it eagerly.
Sometimes you realize this old iPod holds so many of the keys to your heart, so many of the melodies that you held onto tightly, as well as nearly 100 hand-crafted playlists that you painstakingly made at the age of 13 to express nearly every emotion and every situation perfectly.
Sometimes you wonder how you had real friends with such OCD playlist tendencies.
Sometimes you take this old iPod and hook it up to your car stereo and press shuffle, just for kicks, and then for the next two hours, you know every single line of every song that plays.
Sometimes these old songs make you happy, sometimes these songs make you question your music taste and sometimes they make you laugh out loud.
Sometimes you run across a song that you forgot how much you loved. I mean, you know it can be a little cheesy and that no one really listens to The Killers anymore, but you remember when this song was it. You remember using ridiculous words like EPIC to describe it. You remember when your best friend played it for you for the very first time after a particularly long school day full of low self-esteem and it cheered you up. You remember singing along to it with your friends on countless car rides through your suburban neighborhood and you remember seeing it in several inspirational online videos for all sorts of nonprofits and campaigns. You remember it being ‘over-played’ in your young hipster mind, but still loving it. You remember throwing your fist in the air and feeling a little part of your chest swell when Brandon Flowers & company repeated “I got soul but I’m not a soldier!” over and over again. You remember, for whatever reason, this song being one you were never able to skip past, never able to ignore, never tired of. You remember always hearing it and feeling infinite.
And sometimes, you hear it again, driving down the road on a day where you feel like you have no idea what to do with your life, and everything comes rushing back. You soak up every little lyric and rhythm and cymbal crash, and you remember that you’re okay and that life isn’t so overwhelming and dramatic.
And after all, sometimes you need a five minute and six second singalong to stay sane.