happy birthday, yankee hotel foxtrot.
i could write a lot about how i still listen to this music all the time. how i remember the first time i heard “poor places” (headphones on, rain in the window, chicago gray sky). how it feels important to mark time with music, no matter how cliche that seems. how these past ten years have been so wildly different than i could have imagined.
i could write a lot. but, as usual, i will probably just listen. and think.