Sunday, September 26

a little cold

to those who don't write and don't make art, they tell them to try it when they are feeling down. let it sort your thoughts, they say. let it be a release. but to those who write and make art and try to sort our thoughts and find a release, they have nothing to say, because their remedies didn't work for us. it is dark now, a little cold, and we are so full of the wrong thing, and so empty of something we can't put our finger on.

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