roaring of planes coming not close enough. their space carving through the air that i am swimming in. the air that swallows me as i am lost in noise and in blur. lost in indecision. lost in abstraction. lost in solitude. content with my legs crossed, staring at a nail polish stain on the carpet made some months ago. i need to learn to not be so content and at ease with doing so little with my time. i've lost myself in the lists i've made of things to do and to be. lost and pathless.
Feeling Yourself Disintegrate-The Flaming Lips
always here making me feel okay i need you on vinyl for wax cries please crrryryrryryryy