Mood: lost A constant state of confusion and forced optimism. I knew from an early age that time is a rapist, with a belly fattened from boundless, ungarded victims. Knowing doesn't comfort a single situation. So what's the use? What's the use... If it means I have to continuously be broken to feel you, so be it. Happiness without you is an oxymoron. There is none like you. Break me, and I'll still love you in the end. All our friends have gone away.
So bad today
5:45 p.m.//09.18.07
Sound: Chino's clicks
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