Wednesday, April 8, 2009

I'm in that nothing hour

When everything is quiet and the music coming from the headphones is soft and melancholy. There are crickets in its background and I'm pissing away the time I have - thinking about essays which should have been done yesteryear. I'm cold and warm at once. My eyes are tired and underlined by shadow but the synapses keep firing. Will they let me rest?

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