A Zen Garden CD given to you by a programming teacher from six years ago turns out to be just the thing you needed to listen to while you meditate.
A review you wrote for Björk’s “Debut” (1993) no longer reflects the way you feel after you’ve listened to the album another fifty times.
The first game you ever played on a GameBoy Color still holds up fourteen years later, and playing it on a GameBoy turns out to feel incredibly more intimate than on an Emulator.
A venue you visited just to see Anamanaguchi five years ago takes you on as an event promoter and becomes the thing on your résumé that all employers ask you about.
A song you uploaded on MySpace eight years ago puts you in touch with a girl who lives eight hours away, who sparks an interest in hard apple cider that would come in handy during your Junior Year of college.
The song that played during the credits of This Spartan Life put you down a path of chip tune appreciation, which spawns a friendship with somebody eighteen years older than you.
Vampire Weekend still reminds you of sitting on an airplane waiting to return to your first love.