Monday, February 28, 2011


"this one time, in serbia.."

"when did this become a hat party? when did we start WEARING HATS?"


this was supposed to be "looking serious" but i mostly just accomplished "looking like a tool"

it's so cold and i can't get warmer. maybe if the sun would come out it would melt the ice on the window and in our bones that's all soaked through to the middle. i think we need to get out of here; out of this city. i don't know how far to get away from this. maybe savannah. i think that would be far enough. if we went to savannah it will be sweltering with everyone's memories and fear and how inside they are all conflicted at once with good and evil. sometimes it will be chaos but that is what i want; i don't mind the struggle. you think it is oppressive but i think it's sultry. everyone will talk breathlessly because there is so much to say and reality will be boundless again. what i want is to never be cold or gray or hear "we could've done things differently, what a shame. "

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