music is my fahrenheit
It’s snowing. Christmas is all around us, and so the feeling grows. It gets dark at 4 pm, and after school I feel that the day is over.
Every venture outside is a quest. I put on my warm green coat, wrap on a scarf, tie my new winter shoes, and plug my ears with music. Every quest needs a soundtrack. Mine is ska, jazz, brasileiro, klezmer, and indie rock. Warm music.
Adam Green has a warm voice, Nazare Pereira has a warm background, The Squirrel Nut Zippers have a warm attitude. Franz Ferdinand give me a warm fuzzy feeling of nostalgia. Frank London is plain fire, inside and out.
A. is still in Russia, he has most of our equipment, so I can’t change the music in my phone every day. I walk out, pressing the Play button, and the sounds I hear are familiar like an old sweater. I move my lips, singing along, warm inside.
I follow my ears to school, then to a coffee shop, where I lazily decide whether to listen to what they’re playing or to what I brought, then the music and I take a trolleybus home. Here I shut it off and sit in silence. It’s warm enough here.