//corrosive.rotting.cerebral.leakage.though.sometimes.swarmed.by.butterflies// //well, sometimes//

18.11.05

luna.



Friday? so what?

that's what. too much shit. not enough air. not enough time. running. going nowhere. at some point I'll stop running. I must. all I get is a tiny glimpse of your light through my window. life. I'm talking to you, Life. but I know there's more to you than this.

so now what?

Blog Archive