Step out the front door like a ghost into the fog
Where no one notices the contrast of white on white
And in between the moon and you the angels get a better view
Of the crumbling difference between wrong and right
Music has always been an emotional baramoter for me. I don't own alot. I don't listen alot. But the music I do listen to always carries along an emotional aftertaste that can skew my day in a particular direction. Round here, contemplative. Anna begins, melencholy. Lose Yourself, Righteous indignation. And there is something to be said for a shot of Avril to put sugar in your morning coffee.
Most of my trouble comes in finding the Next Great Song (tm) for my collection. I have great friends who will dump gigabytes of music on me so I can pick through and dilute it down to a handful of songs that make my list. Most of my music, however, is nostolgic. The new stuff is filler until a song from the past appears in the random playlist and takes me back to an apartment above a restaurant or a cross country car ride.