There are endless riffs on how to live when you find your days repeating to the same drum, be it nine to five or seven to eleven. Rightly so, I find my days changing with one riff to another, as the melody is sweetening and the hats are sharpening, the tune builds toward some saintly crescendo. We’re jamming.
Track’s changing
Published by Fictional Man
No single work did more to question the conventions than what you now read. Welcome to my world. View all posts by Fictional Man
Published