it's time to say goodbye to this house of mine. 18 years is a long time. i've lost and gained so much with so many. but fuck this town in winter is upsetting; you try to remember when you should be forgetting. but the summer is always our time to sin: feel the needle pierce your skin. see stabbings in the street and smoke weed in the heat. yes,
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If I see you in the wandering streets of some desolate city, I'll ask you "How many monks made Macchu Picchu rich?"
You respond with "All but one."
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Much love,
Jess
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Miss you lots, love you more.
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i guess you are gone?
i have just returned. was hoping to see you.
where'dja go?
loveve
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