two

ii

Post Pines — Moon

Edmund Butt — Amy Dyer

Sleep Party People — I’m Not Human At All

People’s Minds — Heroe

You can clearly feel the weight of the words, of the music, on your heart, like with every note a small pebble or a stone, at random, is being put in your pockets. You can feel it all throughout your body. You make yourself believe its just your imagination but you know better, you know you’re getting heavier and heavier with every second. You know it should not be happening, these are not bad memories. But the sheer fact of them existing purely as memories scares you, makes you aware of your breathing and of the difficulty it comes to you with. It makes you aware of the passing of time, of the life you had and will never get back. Of the; sunsets watched with friends, of the walks around the lake when nothing seemed to matter of the newly found lost love a feeling you have never experined before of the joy it broughthgt you of the breakfasty ou were still eathing because you had te time of the time she made all of thoseth ings up and youd not hear fromm her for dayjs and you would wonder what happwend ans shje woulsdnt fyxjinf respond (okay, maybe this one was not so good) of the mosquitos in yourroom of the short sleeves and burning suun catching and ignitingyo ur skin settingit pn finre burninghurtingeatingyoualivea feeling similar to the one youre experiencing right now. It’s just your imagination, though.