Leftover memories whisper across my chin and rattle my brain at Three in the Morning. No amount of sedative can drown out the dreams. I feed handfuls of letters to the garbage disposal to clear my head. The weather is mildly overcast with a breeze that smells like summer. The middle of the desert turned seaside town for less than an afternoon. Everything feels so empty. All of my efforts just a sub-optimal mess. I'm can't shake the feeling that I'm just dabbling in life.
1:12 p.m. - 2018-04-30
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
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