she fought fires inside of her

and the traffic was bad on Tuesday

and she looked at herself in the mirror for hours

the newspaper said it was going to rain for the first half of the week

(it didn’t)

umbrellas aimed toward the sky

she fell asleep restlessly on the couch

the bathroom window was a little cracked

Well Fuck…

so some of you may know about my dad dying this past october. When he was 18, he went backing across europe and the middle east for 6 months. While doing this he kept a journal, which I happened to read for the first time tonight, and the weirdest shit was, he talks about death. I mean, he talks about how after reading tolstoy, he started to think about his death, and all i could think while reading this was how quick and out of the blue his illness was. He was meant to live longer.