Echoes carved into the rafters on an empty house. Malnourished cats yowl plaintively at an absence of spiders. Lungfuls of the kind of peace found in despairing twilight hours. Tasting the tranquility of desolate leylines. A loneliness so immense that it can't be understood. Wrung out of the soul, through bloodshot and bleary eyes at 2 A.M. The all-consuming sensation sure to be waiting when the first shovels-full of dirt begin to drizzle from above. A crushing lifetime interlude, inside a quiet building.
10:59 p.m. - 2019-04-10
Recent entries:
Interrupted Interpersonals - 2019-05-04
Pines and Needling - 2019-05-04
Claimed Ruination - 2019-04-24
Insufficient Words* - 2019-04-24
Pulling Syrah - 2019-04-10
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