Mood: a bit pissed
Listening to: We carry on – Portishead
Watching: the laptop’s monitor
Reading: what I’m writing
Playing: with my wounded Kero
Eating: a banana
Drinking: herbal tea
Thinking: Portishead’s “Third” cd is permanently attached to a kitchen in Leiden
We carry on
by Portishead
The taste of life, I can’t describe. It’s chocking on… my mind.
Reaching out, I can’t believe. Faith, it can’t… decide.
On and on, I carry on. But underneath… my mind.
And on and on, I tell myself. It’s this I can’t… disguise.
Oh, can’t you see? Holding on to my… heart.
I bleed… the taste of life
The pace, the time, I can’t survive. It’s grinding down… the view.
Breaking out, which way to choose. A choice I can’t… renew.
Holding on, I carry on. But underneath… my mind.
And on and on, I tell myself. It’s this I can’t… disguise.
Oh, can’t you see? Holding on to my… heart.
I bleed, no place… is safe.
Can’t you see the taste… of life?