I can’t see past my eyelashes.

Southampton embraced the fog this evening. Lighter than pillows, thicker than wind. A storms’ a-brewin’.

I’ve got my game face on.

Playing RA to the children of Southampton will prove difficult this summer. Too many, “But, this is the last (insert sob story that somehow allows them to drink themselves silly)! Why don’t you understand?” Sometimes, the lines blur and I see Animal House. I get twitchy. I hide myself in trifles, games like Sims 3 and Kingdom Hearts. I write more.

Silver linings are clichés.

All I want them to do is shut the hell up.


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