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August 29, 2008
My ears are full of something wicked, sensual, charged. I can talk myself into believing the whole train carriage is vibrating not with the journey, but with the music that speeds me, that it's the music that carries me into thickening darkness of the night. Not enough. Skin grows warm from the amber alcohol. More. A pulsating beat in my ears, my heart, my body, the train transforms into a bigger me, I grip my chair and off I go.

And than the batteries die.

I am left in alone for the the silence and the boredom to pray on.