3 thoughts


I love discovering music nobody else knows of and then making it exclusively mine. Deliciously rare. And ultimately, terrifically isolating.


There was a string on her thumb. My yellow Post-its everywhere. And a dull aching heart which she once said was her very own.

Today she tells me she remembers nothing.


In dark, quiet times there is no sweeter sound nor greater relief than the beep of my phone telling me I’ve been texted.


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