welcome to the hideout.

i was sort of a flail case at this time. still am, i suppose. this was my cousin andrew's place in vic west.. or at least, the place he was house sitting.

it was always filled with music, thumping percussion beating up through the floorboards and into my room upstairs. when the boys weren't playing their songs, i'd be listening to "pinkerton" on repeat.

how emo of me.

the heat would cut out every so often, even victoria gets cold in april after midnight.

i'd sleep, shivering in my sleeping bag, the only heat from a small lamp and from my laptop.

this pocket bohemia had a high speed internet connection and a small fortune in instruments and audio equipment.

eventually it grew warmer and i shaved my beard clean.

sort of a funny place to recover

...but i'm glad i did.