Sunday, August 31, 2008. We curl up like cats. We curl up like machines that bend and break like brittle bones. This rust has shown its madness, eventually we brown out like dirt on the ground. Cats do not love, they, like many others, are replacements for another. Like the Tube, avant garde lights winding down and down and down. Pinwheels and hair in curls down your spine.

Please do change your encoding to UNICODE. I canâ t believe it,. Tell me Iâ m dreaming. But we are still â weâ. It was on a rainy day that we met. You didnâ t have a place to go. I said we just met so letâ s go slow. But no, you just told me to keep you from the cold. Sorry, I canâ t take it. Why did you fake it? Why did we kiss? And Iâ m just down. You left me with a note without a sound. I figured I must have been such a child. How my heart just frowns.