Sunday, October 11, 2009

It was firepit night.

I'm at the cold of my room and I smell smoked again. I like the sounds of crackling fire. And I like the people that surrounded me. But there's something so unfortunately sad about tonight, and I wish I'd never left her house.
Because now I can be unfortunately sad in my own quarters, with this song repeating over and over...

ARCHIVE, FUCKERS (for Ace-like purposes)