Working the machine

Music. Has always been there when I need an emotional pillow. Songs contain memories. Cities blend with certain rythms and lyrics.
And now when i am stuck between past and future, in this temporary personal void, I need music more than ever. Songs with a promise that I'll be fine, yes Cam, you'll be fine.
But Jack Johnson makes me sad. Empire of the Sun invites a troop of emotional terrorists, that bomb, rummage, rape and want to destroy me. Nothings fits, everyting misleads.
A song that reminds me that, yes, I have to finally dive into the European Bohemian Rapsody. Let the seasons begin.
Cause apparently it's true, you can't always get what you want.

Just a phase