tales from an ordinary world

2000-01-12

...The smell of metal on my hands from gripping the handrail in the hot tram all the way home, mixed with the lingering spiralling thoughts of despair about a particular aspect of my current working situation - perhaps I should have chosen a different path towards the same goal.

I numb my senses with a glass of Cointreau, to the sounds of My Bloody Valentine.

Take me back to the airport. I want to go somewhere far away...