I stay up so late to talk to you about nothing. Vague premonitions of something that could be and something that already was.
Slow Runner - I’m Gonna Hate You When You Go
Things I am currently surrounded by that are making me smile (even though I am knee-deep in this paper) aka The Contents of My Room in Paris: - my pale yellow pinstripe walls - loose leaf tea from Mariage Frères - a hot cup of it, in this pretty French cup & saucer - books on 17th century Dutch painting, with my Louvre bookmark of this painting sticking out - my poor dirty moccasins - Lush...
This loss isn’t good enough for sorrow or...
What do you do when the person you thought you wanted more than anything comes back, and that’s not enough?