Sitting in my car, waiting for the inspiration to bring me alive like a heartbeat.
The music feels dangerous and I love this. Contemplating; not the hazard of speeding down the highway ferociously but to drive at melancholic speeds sipping on a vile of cold poisoning,
The exact place of solitude that a good old song and writing can bring.
Wondering just how dangerous I can be, How much fear I can bring, just by being extremely hard to read and impossible to see.