DEAF + DUMB + DONE
then -
now -
archives - notes -
dl
eighteen april
three : thirty-seven p.m.
every time i try, i just feel worse about it. my eyes follow every passing car. none of them are yours. or yours.
i haven't seen anyone since i've been here.
and i won't, either. another pointless visit.
music : "in particular" by blonde redhead
literature : nothing
fixation : alone