Fingertips

I am in constant sleeplessness. I am tired. I haven't gotten myself a house. My ears are still ringing with the rattle of train tracks as I write this. I find out newer and more horrible definitions of loneliness everyday. It's pretty cool. Kind of like a horror movie. Hilarious and Gross. I miss my music. I miss Jenny. It has been at least seven thousand years since I heard the Shirelles sing Will you still love me tomorrow. I have started on To kill a mocking bird. I hate beginning each sentence with a possessive. Fuck.
Steaming vadai are a lovely breakfast. Thunder Road and Human Touch are haunting. Jenny is the bestest thing to touch any given day. Bugatti is super sexy. Differentials have a weird gear arrangement. Nothing beats waking up to an alarm on a holiday and repenting your existence. Sardars are more universal than the universe. Pretty HR girls are dangerous. The mind refuses to forget stuff it really must forget. It is adamant and self destructive. So is friendship. That's that.

" Sometimes it's like someone took a knife, edgy and dull, and cut a six inch valley through the middle of my soul. At nights I wake up with my shirt soaking wet and a freight train running through the middle of my head ... "
- Springsteen