crisp night air

Published April 4, 2012 by 51percentawesome

Life on the whole can be disappointing. Then you look over and there’s a frangipani on your shoulder. It’s the rich warmth of fresh night air with a hollow sinking emptiness. It’s a shiny-faced perfectly functioning android with no reception.

I turn my phone off for 24hrs. There was a time when every minute ached; now that barely scratches the surface of the disconnection I seek.

I carry my groceries and my arms burn, like this anger turned inwards. James Hollis, my whole fucking life is a middle passage.

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