Bleary, nebulous, melancholic. A rainy November afternoon, deeply
entrenched insomnia draining the last straight thought with
incessant droning, lost thoughts fuse with the surrounding bleakness
into apathy.
At last, every remaining piece of clarity dissolves
into a maelstrom of distortion, driven by beating drums, led by the
vocalists’ mantra.
I know not where this rainy November
afternoon drains into. But the journey along is captivating.