One of those Friday nights again. You’re driving alone in your car on your way to somewhere – it’s not important where exactly. It’s the Midwest. Everything is quiet. It’s summer. It’s nice out. You were invited to go somewhere, a friend’s party or whatever. There will be people there that you know. It feels good to be included, and you want to be happy. You take your time. Your iPod’s on shuffle and Bark Psychosis comes on. You don’t know much about them. They sound British. They sound sad. You can’t understand the lyrics. It’s OK. They sound pretty and woozy and you’re standing outside of it, as if you’re watching the sound float around you. It’s the sound in your head. It reminds you of something. Either you’d like to be somewhere else or you’re on your way to somewhere else. The voice in your head is trying to tell you something. Everything is going to be alright. You’ve heard it before. You want to believe it. You’re exactly where you should be. You’ve told yourself that many times. The feeling comes and goes. It’s OK to feel it, since it’s such a beautiful night out and this song sounds good on your crappy car speakers. You’re lucky. Not everyone has nights like these. It’s OK to feel it. Everything will be OK in the end. Hopefully. Probably.