Listening to the cleanest, compressed funk, and the air is finally dry and cold. First time since. No burn out on the first turn, maintain, grow, build and persist. The rhythms kick in regular as if they never had stopped.
The people and their habbits. Predicting. Optimising. Or not despite the evidence.
Hiss and go. The next push into the black. And sweet licks wet the way. A new rhythm perhaps, even if similar as before. Keep it regular. Keep it neat. Just more next time.
Oh black. No burnout. Not at the first bend. Build into it.