Then you realise, you're actually at the seaside, alone. You take all the air you can into your lungs and inhale the beauty of the scenery, smell the seaweed and the sea. The waves are murdering those giant rocks... the waves are singing their own song, just like wolves. The eacho disappears into darkness of your ear drums. Stereo but you hear it all mono. Then you think about all those minor tunes in the blues. When is it my time? You wonder... try to avoid frustration and narcissistic thoughts. But you can't. You were born with this. This is you. This is me. This is them. Can't avoid. Try to bury it. It's just a sweet lie. Go ahead, be my guest.