Vexed fingers crush an impudent larynx. Too much talking spoils the silence. Sudden sleep parlayed into a silent slipping away. Outside, it rains peppermint droplets an hour past midnight. The journey home is jarringly tranquil. Digital meditation reverberating through a fraction of an hour, and both eardrums. If life were a stock market, the wisest investment would be in days like this.
9:38 p.m. - 2016-01-05
Recent entries:
Tossi Propter - 2018-07-02
Summerscorch - 2018-07-02
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Back and Callback - 2018-06-18
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