I put on headphones and immediately lose myself, usually to the past, sometimes to a blurry future. But always the present fades away and I can see beyond or behind, through and over.

It’s been time still. Time since I last slipped into a CD and walked in another world while the crowd passed me by. Time since I stepped out of my life.

I’m waiting at a bus stand and it’s dark and I’m frustrated. It’s been a long day and I’ve been waiting for too long. There’s a chubby pasty girl sitting in the bus shelter listening to her music and her lips move languidly in time with the beat.
Something dead in her face, in the blankness of her gaze, in the way her mouth contracts. Something in me steps back, to ponder, to shudder, to reminisce.

The thought that one sentence repeated over and over in my head alone to a beat only my heart breathes to could colour my world. Something dangerous in that.

Because I know best how easily I lose myself to a voice and a beat.

And there is magic now, under blood red trees. [+]