Know those moments when you just want to leave your apartment or office and run so far away that you can’t recognize the streets or people anymore? Those moments fresh after a painful breakup, right after the point that you just stopped crying every other second of every single day, but still at the cusp of mourning where you’re still waking up with potent pains in the pit of your stomach that remind you that the love it was once filled with is no longer there. You know these moments, don’t you? The ones we like to use to reflect on relationships that just ended and cry a little bit about in the solace of our own religion; the very moments we use to play out the best parts of those relationships and miss them as if we will never experience anything that beautiful again in this life. Deep down inside we know that isn’t true, but what good is a breakup without the tears and sorrow? It just doesn’t have the same effect.
You’re indecisive, and cold
but I need you to know,
I can’t let you go,
I let you go.
“Overdose” by Long Island trifecta Square One makes me wish, today, that I had something to cry about because it exudes that melancholic mood that I love to mull over memories in. From deep down the lead singer’s diaphragm, straight up through his vocal chords the song makes me want to get up off this desk, walk out this building, hop on my skateboard and just ride, right now (noon in NYC) until the early morning just before the sun rises again tomorrow. It makes me wish that I had moments that I knew I would never get back with some beautiful girl that I could reflect on while using the city’s bridges, alleys, its streets, and the concrete, steel and glass landscapes as the scrolling background behind me while coasting through the profound tunnels of my own rumination.
Late night, wide eyes, blacked-out mind,
Like an overdose,
Like an overdose.
Press play and get ready to be immediately sucked in by vocals that are sang like a drug addict from his highest points, or, just a brokenhearted man who has been defeated by his own sorrows, dealing with his own seesaw of emotions while adjusting to the thoughts of having to, eventually, let go.