Sometimes things end up with strange music that still keeps my mind from going mad. it quietly buzzes in my head with a rain of thoughts and waits for a poem or a thought in a diary to come out of it.
writing and thinking are left to me out of the everyday, which is now drowning in routine, and I find myself waiting for it to come pouring out. anger, anxiety, and fears all have a place in my being, enemies and friends, homeland and strange homes, all under strange music….

Sometimes it keeps me safe, sometimes it destroys me, but this coming weekend will be hard, I’ll never get used to being alone during the holiday,s and here my strange music will start playing again. Quick thoughts on betrayal and life here on the edge of the world….