That nostalgic feeling of songs relevant to personal epochs past. Such a wash of feelings swirls with tar and cloves and pot smoke. Feeling an autumn breeze but not the lifeless one of today. No, rather the vibrant chill that sparkled in a young mind rife with as much anxiety as identity. To ask for these times again would be folly, but to appreciate them for what the landscape has become is a delicious indulgence.
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