twelve february
ten : twenty-three p.m.

"i have lithography ink all over my fingers. i can't get it off."

"aw," i imagined him smiling at me. "i've had spray paint on my fingernails for a couple of days, i guess."

i wonder if he imagined the same thing.

us and our dirty hands. and, over the summer, our dirty clothes and hair and feet.

never clean, no matter how hard we try. soon, it won't matter.

"have a nice weekend, and, if i don't get a chance..happy valentine's day."

music : death cab for cutie
literature : nothing
fixation : making the best of..