these days seem to get more lonely each time the sun comes back around. and i'm running out of space to write things on. and i'm running out of patience to write this down. the scars on my hands seem to be constant reminders of things i can't remember and i try to make sense of why they are there. i didn't even realize it was five oclock before i even thought of showering and my cat can tell better than i can. this disillusionment is too much. if it weren't for you i wouldn't be here but i need you now more than ever to remind me i exist. my breath reeks of death, i don't feel very alive now. i let myself drown again.

"so many of the associated ideas could be present, and yet the main idea be wanting hopelessly and for ever"
there is no definition of love. it's a ghost. love is a pretense.

is it really only wednesday?

apr�s - vers l'avant

bout cinq...
ate pm - 2013-01-09
2012-12-02 - 2012-12-02
won a.m. - 2012-11-16
long cold nights - 2012-10-30
drowned dreams - 2012-10-30