There was a time when music didn’t stream —
it glowed.
Red and green lights blinking on a heavy stereo,
a Schneider boombox standing like a king
in the living room shrine of youth.

You pressed Play,
and the world obeyed.

The speakers hummed,
the tape clicked,
and suddenly the room became America,
London, Casablanca, New York —
all at once.

It was the age of Boney M spinning in the kitchen,
KISS roaring like lightning,
Marvin Gaye smoothing every broken heart,
The Commodores pouring honey into the night,
Diana Ross & The Supremes giving every girl a reason
to lift her chin just a little higher.

And in the middle of all that magic
stood you —
a kid with stars in your eyes
and a stereo that felt like freedom.

Two cassettes turning at the same time,
volume sliders like small silver stairways,
bass that made the windows tremble,
and that one perfect moment
when you hit Record + Play
to catch your favorite song
right on time
— breath held, fingers ready —
praying the radio host wouldn’t talk over it.

Those nights were a world of their own.
Warm. Loud. Innocent.
A universe made of sound, neon, dreams,
and a heart that believed
everything was possible
as long as the music kept playing.

Because in the 80s and 90s,
we didn’t just listen to music.
We lived inside it.

And somehow…
a part of us still does.

RoseBloom 🌹copyright 2025

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