as we watched willem dafoe go insane for no reason, my sister turned to me and said, “i hate pure evil.”
as we watched willem dafoe go insane for no reason, my sister turned to me and said, “i hate pure evil.”
i wish there was a way to keep cold weather; to stuff it in the side pocket of my suitcase, to put it on a shelf when i get home, like a souvenir. i can’t, though, and eventually i’ll forget about long sleeves, about jackets and boots. frozen fingers. tea. when i get home it will be hot–it has always been hot–and it will be hot for the rest of my life.
i’m going to be gone for about a week, okay? i’ll see you next friday or saturday. in the meantime, talk amongst yourselves.