What’s your all-time favorite album?

Music has a strange way of stitching itself into the timeline of our lives. For me, my all-time favorite album isnβt just a collection of songsβitβs a diary I never wrote, yet somehow managed to express everything I once felt.
I still remember the day I first stumbled upon it. I wasnβt looking for anything in particular, just flipping through an old stack of CDs at a friendβs place. The cover caught my eyeβnot flashy, but quietly inviting, like it had a secret to tell. I borrowed it, promising to return it within a week. Truth be told, I never did. That album became mine, not because I kept it, but because it kept me.
The first track felt like an open window on a summer eveningβfresh, hopeful, endless. By the time the third song played, I was hooked. Each lyric seemed written for me, each note pulling me deeper into a world where my thoughts werenβt so loud and my worries felt lighter. I mustβve played it a hundred times that year, late at night with headphones on, the glow of my old MP3 player lighting up the dark.
What makes it my favorite isnβt perfectionβitβs memory. That album was with me during long bus rides, heartbreaks, quiet victories, and moments I thought no one noticed. It taught me that music doesnβt just fill silence; it fills you.
Even today, when life feels too fast and days blur into one another, I press play. The songs sound the same, but they make me feel different every timeβsometimes nostalgic, sometimes comforted, sometimes like Iβm sixteen again with the whole world ahead of me.
I may discover new albums, new artists, and new sounds, but that one will always be home.
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