eight august
ten : oh-five p.m.

i can't see anything outside. if i stand by the window, i can pretend it is autumn. i've been doing that a lot. pretending.

i want this winter to be freezing. ice on the streets. so it can be like that song. brushing the snow from my hair.

and she wants me to smile, but i can only do it when you're there.

i'm sorry.




listen : the bends