(no subject)
It feels ... odd, having finally taken down all of the pictures I had of Emily up. I replaced them with colder, monochromatic pieces of art. The room feels different. It's lost something... brilliant. Then again, so have I. I think I remember something about a room/home being a reflection of a person internally. Maybe I just made it up, but it could be right.
I wonder how a cubing would go for me now.
I wonder how a cubing would go for me now.