Mia, I mean, I write whatever I want, right? It’s not a definition, it’s a beautiful memory. One that probably won’t be liked because what’s the point of liking someone else's memories? But I’m writing it for myself, so that’s fine. I sang Tuxedomoon during my first trip to India. I could never find batteries for my walkman, but I missed them so much that I sang their songs on the streets, everywhere. Can you imagine what might come out of that? A crazy-looking German girl making improbable sounds. But they filled my heart and closed the distance to the European new wave climate. Music was the only thing I missed during those months, along with toilet paper. Tuxedomoon, travel companions and memorable "trips."
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