sinsitive
i look into my past self. a fading glow of optimism tightly wrapped in a brown paper bag. the edges are burning slowly, as they near me i close my eyes and float down the fluid river. how long have i been here? i am bound by currents.
i’ve spent the last few nights at vincents watching dexter or movies and drinking wine. i showed him Weekend yesterday. he cried and we fell asleep lost in forgotten memories of our past. idiomatic investments that produced no returns. i write now in fear. broken is the road that got me here; cracked and bruised, soaking wet. it has become increasingly hard to stand.
self reflection, ah, let’s see. nearly twenty-four. nearly out of money. living at my parents. no job. little hope for schooling. no contributions. no industrialized talents. now i am lost.
i’ve spent the last few nights at vincents watching dexter or movies and drinking wine. i showed him Weekend yesterday. he cried and we fell asleep lost in forgotten memories of our past. idiomatic investments that produced no returns. i write now in fear. broken is the road that got me here; cracked and bruised, soaking wet. it has become increasingly hard to stand.
self reflection, ah, let’s see. nearly twenty-four. nearly out of money. living at my parents. no job. little hope for schooling. no contributions. no industrialized talents. now i am lost.