german winters; pantha du prince beating the chill into you as the heat does nothing but sweat. sweat all over your blurred tan lines, blurred outlines of people on your skin, people, always there with you. tear-stained nights and cheesy songs are not all that far behind, and nothing is pulling you out of the cheap melody lines that shroud your eyes. dreams of suns and lizards, but the zen keeps you going, duct tape saves all days.