I have a play list with a bit more than 3200 songs. On the weekends I just turn the speakers off so when I want music I can turn them on and come into the middle of a song.

Lightning Crashes, by Live started just as I flipped the speakers on. The weather outside, this song blasting at me with all of it’s power, the quality of light: suddenly I’m back in Boston in the early 90’s.

The Boston I remember is gone, like all places we leave. Going back wasn’t a mistake when I visited last (hell it was work-related, so in a sense I was paid to go back) but it also wasn’t my Boston. Never will be.

Not the first time I heard the song but it will forever be a Sunday morning on the low part of the Hill, blasting the tune through a small boom box as me and my two roomies (in a tiny one bedroom apt) stood suddenly lost in the moment. Breakfast burned a bit. We were all just caught in the song suddenly, and nothing else existed but that moment.

That moment is still trapped by the song.

Fuck. Some songs. Ya know?