Another morning passing by. No studying involved. I can't. I think about music and travelling and wonder where I'll be next autumn. I try to be interested in something, but can't seem to manage. And if someone asks if something happened, if there is something wrong, what can I answer? Yes, there is something wrong. I am alive and I am here and only music can reach through my barrier of self-delusion and sadness. I watch movies that tell me that there is hope. That there is beauty. That there is love. That there is understanding. But who am I kidding? There is nothing. And only the music can convey the stupidity, the utter despair, of it all.
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