I need to become more passionate about my music and art. I will.
I sit inside this empty room, and I smile at the thought of you. How could something be so perfect? How could someone make me this happy? I await for your return home tonight.. I cannot wait till our lips meet again.
The power of the dead is that we think they see us all the time. The dead have a...– Don DeLillo, White Noise (via larmoyante)