novembre ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- one-dimensional. I don't know what to tell her that could make her stay. She's as flighty as one of those moths you see flickering in and out of lamplight on a darkened porch. She'll never call you. She spends all her time reading, working, writing, sleeping or watching fantasy films, drawing, walking, avoiding laundry, writing cryptic epitaphs to failed experiments in cement. She misses you, I know. She just doesn't really say anything nowadays because she feels exceptionally boring. Because she is boring. 5:14 pm - 01.14.04 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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