steal all my records

there is a certain kind of love, or perhaps it is obsession, that holds tight no matter what happens. the kind that when that person is gone you miss them in ways that border on a bit of insanity; that please come back and take whatever you want from me kind of notion. it passes, it does pass, but when you are in the throes of it – well, there is nothing quite like that level of desperation.

i am relieved (is it relief?) to not feel that way anymore. something has shifted, something has changed; i don’t know what it is exactly, or how to explain it, but the only one who is going to steal my records right now is me.

“i wish you’d make up my bed
so i could make up my mind
try it for sleeping instead
maybe you’ll rest sometimes
well i wish i could”

also, there is no end to the love i have for this song, ryan adams, and kcrw’s morning becomes eclectic.