"And there we all sat on the edge of that bed. And it was that mix tape. The one that got us through so many good nights. Only today, it wasn't the same. Today we weren't the same people as those in our long gone memories..."
It was more than just a mix tape. It was the soundtrack to our lives. The soundtrack to stories that everyone has, but no one wants to tell. The mix tape that defined friendships, the mix tape that played through the vomit, the tears, the laughter, and the smoke.
The mix tape was the only thing that ever stayed the same. Some days your best friend was your worst enemy. Others, you are your own worst enemy. In a real story, good guys and bad guys do not exist.
The who’s, what’s, when’s and where’s, I can tell you. It’s the how and the why that may be harder to explain.
People do what they have to. Drinking, drugs, gambling, food; everyone has their poison. Destroying themselves slowly in some way to deal with the curve balls life throws at us every day. Some people are just better at hiding it than others.
Every person you see walking down the street has a story. This is just the story about a small portion of life for one group of teenagers, and the mix tape that saw it all.