I always find myself walking the long and winding sidewalk back to Co Ed, from the caf. I hate that sidewalk. I hate that parking lot. Already i find myself thinking fondly that, next year, coco, next year you’ll be in Uhler maybe and then there won’t be such a long walk. WHAT AM I GOING TO DO IN WINTER I ALREADY HATE IT NOW. im bitter and sad
The word ‘Twas saved my life, once. and my sanity.
I want to write something akin to Dracula, except Dracula never leaves his castle in Transylvania, and he kidnaps John Harker bc Dracula’s in love with him, not Lucy Westenra. Maybe I just really want some queer gothic romances. idk. The gothic’s a cool genre though
I find myself captivated by the thought of a masquerade ball, of a ballerina dressed in all white and a skirt like a cloud. She smiles through her glittering, snowy mask. Then she is gone.
I’m struck by the thought of rain, how it can be so cold, so chilling to the very core of you, dragging you down until you are heavy and wet and you feel like ice and yet your soul seems somehow cleaner
I wonder if anyone can go through the five stages of grief for winter coming. it feels like it.
You don’t seem like the same person you once were. I used to be so close to you once. When we are alone it’s fine, but i see you with them sometimes and I wonder what happened to the boy I once knew. I wonder how time goes by so quickly. I wonder how like a chameleon you can change so suddenly, becoming so different as to who you once were. Do I know you anymore? Have I ever? I don’t know. I don’t know. I am the same, and you are different.