8
chinapants:
Snowing here. Drinking coffee waiting for my locks to unfreeze. Tasting cigarettes and wishing I had a job. Distance more than loneliness and the thought of turning forty without a date makes me feel old. Older than my reflection.  Back in the town I grew up in and it is the same. Filled with the same dreams I’ve always had and the same reasons to leave them for later. Money, time and needs, my own and others. Truly feeling happy four or five times a day and then crying when a happy song comes on or the sun breaks through the clouds. Old boots. New jacket. Borrowed hat.  Not afraid but feeling fucking tired.