This is somewhat less melancholic than the average Sovietwave mix, but it’s no less mysterious and distant. Maybe it’s the drums in the opening track that lift it from the gloom and set the tone, but… well… it’s still Sovietwave. It’s an odd genre, seemingly created in and portraying a world of perpetual twilight, or simply night. Even the mixes cheerily titled “summer day” or “spring in Minsk” are deep down in the shadows. Who can’t appreciate that irony and humor?

I’m supposed to be out of the house and moving earlier this morning, but the every idea of movement is making me cringe and retreat into the covers. What is this exactly that I’m feeling?

Tired.

I’m tired.

It’s not quite that dark, Dostoevsky sort of weary, but it’s nearing those levels. Don’t ask me what that means. You’ll know or you won’t. It’s that simple. You’ll get it, or not. It’s not worth explaining.

More later.