Outside, snow falls, melting before it lands. In the background, the Cure play moody melancholic melodies.
Interminable inaction suspends me like a modern-day Hamlet; tragic and silent. To avoid the flames of despair, my world falls; tattered, rag like.
Hope better plans come to fruition.
The snow falls, the music plays, and I wait.
I wait for the words to come, that I may leave this forsaken place.
The snow melts.
Tracks I'm Listening To Right Now
