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Last summer I listened endlessly to Sia, and now the sound of her voice POWERFULLY invokes sunny Sarajevo; the feeling of hanging out by myself in my little flat, making flatbreads and waiting 4 hours for beans to cook in my half-assed kitchen, and feeling very very sad about something. If I'm feeling even a tiny bit fragile, just a couple of seconds of hearing her can make me burst into tears on the spot, from a combination of how I was feeling last summer, and a touch of Sarajevo-homesickness. Doesn't eveโฆ