Most nights I put on soundtrack music in order to drown out the noise in my head. That is why I am sometimes woken up in the middle of the night by a Spanish man telling me I need to go find my son. Other times it’s an itinerant question uttered by a man about a ferry ticket, the answer to which is on another track randomised elsewhere. Or on some nights, just some now, it’s these incessant thumps, now until the break of day, hammering out words I don’t want to hear, things I had erased long ago. Why didn’t it make any difference at all, that I deleted, obliterated all that was wrong with my life? I hear it still, time and again.
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