The room is silent, and I know it should not really be, the washing machine had to sing with me, but I could not bring myself to it. Laundry day has to wait. Encore.
This might be a good opening sentence if you pretend you have never read it and that I have never written it. Pretend, they say it's effortless. And all I can pretend is that pretending may some day come naturally to me too. Or is it called convincing, perhaps lying? It has no meaning and poses no importance. At the end everything is as it used to be and as you left it. Change is illusive. And so is everything.
Every day is a battle for a sun as Placebo were so kind to remind us, but they missed out to let us in to the secret how to lead it.