(no subject)
i, being of sound heart and nothing other,
willfully drown out the steady annoyances.
i murder that which murders me,
i wait for age and summer days.
let's retreat,
explosion headed our way,
this is all there is now,
and there is only war.
PS:i've been meaning to apologize for the fact that i've turned out to be no fucking storybook.
(oh, but let me count the ways...)