Nothing worked, so I put on music.And “Dreams” came on—the irony, huh.
I always forget how much this song builds without ever pushing.
At first, Dolores sounds like she’s barely touching the words.Her voice is soft like she’s still deciding whether to let you hear what she’s feeling.There’s something so tentative in the opening—like falling in love when you’re still half-convinced it’s going to wreck you.
But then the drums come in, and the whole thing opens up.
It’s not a heartbreak song.It’s a pre-heartbreak song.
It’s what hope sounds like when it’s still nervous.When you’re starting to feel everything you swore you wouldn’t, and you don’t know if it’s freedom or danger—but either way, you’re too far in now to stop.
And the chorus ...her life is changing every day in every possible way.What do you do with that?Plus, she doesn’t belt it.She lifts it.Like she’s holding something fragile in both hands and letting the wind carry it a little.
This isn’t naïve love.It’s new love surrounded by the frightening unknown.
And tonight, for some reason, that hit me harder than anything sad.Because maybe the scariest thing isn’t losing someone.I mean, it hurts.It hurts so much that it might take you a lifetime to recover.
The scary part is letting yourself believe love is worth it in the first place.Giving it a try, more so when you’ve been broken before.
Anyway.That’s where I’m at.
Wrapped in dreams.Wide awake.Thinking about voices that break you.They crack you open even when they don’t intend to.
What do you put on when it’s too late for sleeping and too early for pretending?
Private Message| EchoZone Internal Chat
From: DeadStrings
To: StringTheory27
Date: April 28th, 1997, 2:41 AM
Subject: Re: Dreams
Oddly enough,I managed to fall asleep around nine.It’s probably because I spent a lot of time at the gym.It was the only way to deal with all the emotions stuck inside.So, I called that a win until ...well, I’ve been awake since one o’clock.
I played “3AM” by Matchbox Twenty again.It’s always somewhere in the rotation when my brain won’t settle.
I should say—I’m not really a fan of theirs.
Their songs always feel close to capturing something, but they never quite arrive.
Like you’re waiting for a door to open that never does.
But maybe that’s why this one works when it’s dark out and everything feels too still.
There’s something about the rhythm.That guitar loop that doesn’t go anywhere, just moves in place.
It lets you drift.
Not upward, not out—just sideways.Far enough from everything you don’t want to feel.
The lyrics sound casual, like a conversation you weren’t meant to hear.
But underneath that—there’s someone barely holding things together.He’s caring for someone who can’t ask for help.And he’s not expecting anything in return.
There’s one line about her always being worried.That one stuck tonight.It says more in ten words than most songs do in four minutes.