One-way conversations with a wild animal. Lime and raven hair plaited into twentysomething pigtails. The inevitable and confounding cold shoulders. Re-living late teenage nights at crappy West Coast American diners. A self-professed Seven with a broken mouth. Glassy eyes turned around inside her head. Meaningless notes from newly-minted platinum presses. The loneliness becomes more Rearden-esque every week, in the face of facile banality.
4:17 p.m. - 2018-04-16
Recent entries:
Tossi Propter - 2018-07-02
Summerscorch - 2018-07-02
Heartdesert - 2018-06-25
Elliptical - 2018-06-25
Back and Callback - 2018-06-18
My profile
Archives
Notes
Diaryland
Random
RSS
others:
As-I-know-it
Nicim
Breathe-Salt
Swordfern
Star-Brite
Swallowthkey
ATwoWayDream
HumHum
Secret-motel
AndWeBreathe
MovingSands
WeAteTheSea