uncommoncold

My account expires tomorrow. Or maybe the day after.

I've always hated goodbyes. They leave such a despicable taste in the mouth, don't you think? A mixture of sweat and lime and black licorice. I want them clean-cut, but I always drag them out.

the simple pain of living,
with goodbyes on our lips

Take care, sweethearts. It's been a slice. You can find me around if you look hard enough; this is only one internet journal, after all.

Always,
A.