sixteen january
nine : fourteen p.m.

everything seems to be rolling along smoothly, and then i make the mistake of putting that song (or maybe that other one) on, and it all turns around.

it shouldn't have that kind of effect. i should be able to listen without crying. it isn't about me. it isn't about anything.

"why must all those pretty things be sad, somehow?"

music : "june" by pinback
literature : bily collins
fixation : notes; wood stain