our days are running thin. our hops will start to fall. i can feel the world collapse around me from within. and the letters keep coming by to let us know when time will die.
This vacation's useless. These white pills aren't kind. I've given a lot of thought on this thirteen-hour drive. I miss the grinding concrete where we sat past 8 or 9.
I've been all pinched up. since saturday i've run myself dry. of excellence. 16 long years in. hale the bullshit in. Whatever i said. on saturday. whatever i did.