my afternoon.
Sitting at Starbucks, sipping on the worst vanilla latte I have (quite possible) ever had: svoiding the downpour, heavily mourning this great loss, barely listening to the happiest sad-song stream... when I realize, this annoyingly pitched jazz number is actually a Morrisey cover. And I wonder: have all these songs been happy covers of sad songs? I try to think back. A welcome distaction that fills the shell I have become, for a few moments, before draining-- pushed out by this grief. My great sadness.