Ventage

There isn't any more home made rum, nevermind whisky. I even got up to rummage through the fridge a second time. I won't again, it's freezing yonder my red quilt. Frosty hitchiked to Kuwait on a piercing breeze for the week, as predicted by the news.
It's been a while since I've come back here. It's the same with its haunting silence. The tastefully painted walls close in on me and the elegantly furnished apartment seems to be missing a soul. The quilt on the bed folded, untouched. How can red look so cold?

I struggle with the internet usb for 10 minutes before I get it to work, there is no way I would survive a quiet night here. My hard drive full of some unwatched Miyazaki has been forgotten at my desk at work. The cable here hasn't been fixed since forever either. I had spent an hour driving around without switching on the radio, self imposed silence to find the source of the cacophany in my head. Delayed reaching the bleak enforced quietitude of my own home. God, I hate staying alone. Apparently melodramatically so.

I let musicovery unfurl its 70's rock at me, and discover the Electric Lights Orchestras "Last Train to London". The sound permeates the corners of the room and I fall asleep, table lamp still gowering at the walls. Wednesday I'll make sure I'm not short on some whiskey philosophy.

I dedicate this song to me, ha!

The tone at 00:30 reminds me of the beginning (again 00:30) of Simply Reds "Sunrise", non?