She Don't Want Education

I've been working too much today. I say working, I mean fiddling. With my essay, with maps, with flickr, with last.fm, with everything. Fiddle fiddle fiddle. I'm in London and I'm fiddling in my room and wondering what the fuck I am doing. And its cold in here. It smaller than my room at home and has less outward facing walls and its still just as cold. Its ridiculous. But this room does have music. I've been marking my "loved tracks" on last.fm. I have so many. I was making a mixtape for Lidia a couple of nights ago, and though it didn't work out right, it's made me want to make more. I was listening to a couple of songs today and they made me so happy. I want to play Sigur Ros in repeat. Open the door to my room and let the sound spill out. Play it louder and louder and louder until it physically moves me. Pushes at my chest, pushes me into the wall and holds me there. Thumps in my chest and my ears. Vibrates. Like I'm stood inside an amp. An amp at a gig, where the beat pounds through the floor, through my feet, up my legs and fills me head with sound. I want to play it so loud it blows the cobwebs from my head.