All nighter at the internet cafe, then a silence piercing the Dunkin’ Donuts, then a sip of a mocha (too much chocolate, too much sugar) and outside a man with the mouth of a bruised frog asks you for 50 cents. The hub grumbles. The rooftop yawns. Sadboys come out of the corners of Instagram and then at the concerts with a beer like fuck it, I am better than the internet. But you aren’t. You’re just a part of it, clad in the simplicity of Urban Outfitters, ready for twinkling hi-hats that replicate the order of the stars. You secretly want to be Japanese and think about learning the language all the time, but think that you sound silly when you say konichiwa in the bathroom mirror. Your mouth. Your silly hoodie. Your secret smile. Was it Shakespeare that said music can heal anything? You’ve decided that novels betray the true intentionality of words, so you’ve switched to poetry and Soundcloud, stumbling upon Yume, who makes astral trax like “Runaway,” an anthem for winter, when a gaze at the computer, a deep breath, and a sense of a new beginning will be given to you.
• Yume: http://yume9v.bandcamp.com