(no subject)
I've been trying to make Dal for the past two nights. each night it has burned. This evening, when I lifted the lid and saw the burnt slosh stuck to the bottom of the pot I couldn't help but start to cry. Not sure if it had to do with the Joanna Newsom in the background or just the overwhelming feeling of failure that overcame me.
My usual companions of loneliness and despair are never far away and they seize opportunities such as these to hastily take my hands and whisper soft lies.
Something about the absence of sunshine is leaving me defenseless against them.
My usual companions of loneliness and despair are never far away and they seize opportunities such as these to hastily take my hands and whisper soft lies.
Something about the absence of sunshine is leaving me defenseless against them.