16.08.2003 - 01.12
oh, no, not at all....
my fucking throat is sore, too much idle time, there's a rattle that sometimes gets fast enough to seem like a voice on the phone that tells me you've been hit by a car. when we know, when we know you'll grow past that bullshit and think of something worth the calories spent on creating it. i'm too tired and i feel too old, i was born too early contrary to what i've been told, it's alright, i don't need to be soothed, i have this. if you find yourself looking at my hair, i don't mind, but please don't treat me as if i've tailored my hair for your benefit, it takes fucking soul to do this, fucking soul, patience and love, and i've run short on all of them.
then - soon25.09.2003-Epilogue.
01.09.2003-
30.08.2003-Exeunt, the Moor.
28.08.2003-why?
27.08.2003-Last night, and august in general.