So here I am again, sitting alone on the windowsill of our loft; overlooking Broad Street beneath me ... there is a bum rummaging through the trash bin, a few police are strolling around the opposite side of the street, rats the size of small dogs keep darting back and forth between the gutters, a couple is walking along the sidewalk below, they
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and even that is rare.
i'm pretty sure that there is only one option at this point.. to continue following this path toward this unknown destination, and take the time to appreciate the little things -- just so you don't go insane.
i fucking miss you.
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i fucking miss you more.
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..that's what casey just said.
i wish i could just tell you to say fuck-it-all and escape for a weekend. i know you can't right now, but we both need it soon.
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