my tattoos have meaning

I took Max to dance and back. Returned home feeling listless. Since there's work tomorrow, it doesn't seem worth it to immerse myself in any of my sketches or stories. Reinis is in Munich, having 1l tankards of beer with the other students that are taking part of the week long introduction of whatever program in whatever university it was. I don't remember. Anyway, there's silence on that end, at the moment.
After having soaked up some of Vice's stark view of controversial topics and having continued, for a while, the binge of short animations I started off with V&T the day after Terēze's 21st birthday, I moved on to articles about sexuality and its constantly developing role in modern society. Halfway through an article, I'm distracted by the voice, the articulation of words as said by a young boy, replacing the ambiance of the soundtrack up until that point. I listened to the words swell, then fade into violins and cold echoes and realized that I felt alone, and that it's a precious, wonderful thing. That I had mistaken the thoughts and the people crowding my mind for the core of the identity I possess, the very thing I had forgotten to let up for a breath of air. I savored it for a moment, then took action to write it down so as not to forget about it again, and subsequently lost it.

A Silver Mt Zion - Built Then Burnt (Hurrah! Hurrah!)