was looking for some postrock for writing, found some postrock for crying where my life went at 3am
as usual
it's sunny outside, perfect weather, the work is half a country away, but it is still snowing like it is the end of the world
I was reading a thread, but i'm not really supposed to reply there, and it wouldn't really help, so I'd write it here instead.
eventually you would start forgetting a person, their face, maybe even how they walk or which was the color of the scarf, but you wouldn't forget a hole. a train goes full speed, but the bridge isn't there anymore. "you know who would have liked th.. nevermind". nevermind. nevermind.
maybe you don't have the right to grief, because you were not a good friend or maybe a friend even, but somehow you still do.
посоветуйте цветы для балкона
any time of the day: 😴 |
3am: i demand knowledgewithout Wednesday the week is just eek
чот учитывая дедлайны у меня теперь похоже есть только два режима работы:
- спать 10 часов
- ааааааааааааа
навстречу дует ветер с дождём, ползешь на работу (все равно там сегодня почти никого и можно прийти поздно), вжимаясь в асфальт вместе с зонтиком
а хочется, конечно, взлететь.
