black eyes.

So here we are again my oldest and most trusted friend.
celebrated with absinthe and a gathering, be it a disconnected one.
I am not able to connect with anyone, not one damn person these days, it leaves me hollow.
I would have more in common with residents of any retirement home than with 95% of the people that I meet.

Writing to fall back on

It is so easy to get caught up in distracting nonsense.

Flashes of her crop up in others.
Passionate, intelligent, insightful, mysterious, fascinating, lonely.

Ever since [she] died, there has been nothing
where there’s always been at least one dream.

It makes everything seem colder.

-For more in this series and the story behind it, see 13 years