Prima-Ludovico Einaudi

jI m not quite sure what it was rain pouring over our heads cars splashing by our voices going up and down and inspire us so unpleasant and predictable I could cry and suddenly I felt a slap in my face a stinging blinding flash

I ran forward in the rain just wanting to leave and get away maybe get home but the cityscape seemed different every corner and line strange and yet familiar

I couldn’t tell the distance between where and why anymore between sooner and late or now and then or fast and slow between thought and fat or this and that so I stopped and time stopped and I was in and it was out and it felt strange and warm