It's 2AM and the streets outside my window are still. The winds and rain have died for now. The only light in the room is my computer; the sole lightbulb burnt out the other day. I haven't told Ivo or Andre because I don't know how to say it in Portuguese. I often fight waves of intimidation and paranoia living with two gay men, even though they have shown me nothing but paternal support and indulgence. I awoke from a nap today to the sound of Ivo performing karaoke in his living room, by himself. I haven't slept or written much on account of the new DJ set I've begun working on. It's still early in the project but it's safe to say that it is my best work yet. It manages to combine a lot of my original 501 stuff with material from bands I am close friends with, as well as my own band. Brazilian weed isn't very good, but I will say this: it gets the creative juices flowing.
The language is coming, slowly.
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