Wistful over reading something special and knowing I can't share it like I used to.

I've always found the idea of making peace with reality a little alien. It's not that I don't appreciate the materiality and inertia of existence or whatever; it's just that my instinct is to fight to reshape it. That is my reality. Or at least, it used to be.

Strange to think that I used to kinda love airport departure lounges.

When we two parted
In silence and tears,
Half broken-hearted
To sever for years,
Pale grew thy cheek and cold,
Colder thy kiss.

In secret we met –
In silence I grieve,
That thy heart could forget,
Thy spirit deceive.
If I should meet thee
After long years,
How should I greet thee?

I don't even have a driver's license.
m.youtube.com/watch?v=ET4f...

"As long as there is some kind of contact between the dream and the real world, everything will turn out fine. This is the kind of dreaming, unfortunately, of which there is all too little in our movement."

Mood.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cxj2...