oh, my wrists are weak.

i found my memory sticks.

i think i have a love-hate relationship with night time. i like it, it envelops me and has a welcoming persuasion to it. but it's so dark, so very dark.

i want to lay back and light up. but i lay down and my thoughts screw with my head until i feel irrevocably lachrymose.

and they're not even particularly sad thoughts, this amalgamation of words and pictures and memories inside my head. it's just, both the happy and the sad thoughts seem to hit home. it's why they're stuck in there.

it's why, no matter what, they won't leave me alone.

1 comment:

  1. That thinking inside the box shot is genius. Also, I understand the feeling you're trying to evoke. I call it nostalgic melancholy, although those words do not fully capture what I want to say.

    I am Fickle Cattle.