:::by annie:::

i remember looking at this window while reading celine. while sipping tea. while listening to kind of like spitting.

those days were better. i did what i wanted. and i spent hours lost in myself. and things felt important. and i was excited about everything.

i now lay on a bed with calculus notes, blue books, study sheets hearing your voice in the backround.

let's go to bloomington now.

i can't stand to look out my window when this is where i am.

<< 2002-10-23 @ 2:52 p.m. >>

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