3:24 am.

4:34 am.

Rereading old work to spark ideas for new work. Past and present colliding.

The camera just isn’t capturing the colors of the sunrise and the fog, and the silhouettes of the trees.

Our time together always goes by too quickly. Too, too quickly. We could talk for hours.

Leftover soup.

It’s colder than I thought. Cold hands and cold feet. The moss on the rocks is glowing; looks supernatural. Inhale the smell of the wet rocks and burned wood.

She is the best.

I send a request to the online chat, which is an actual person somewhere in the library. The books are on a cart by the parking lot. Next to my books is also a very large stack of DVDs. I want to read all of the titles because maybe this person could be my friend.

The turkey didn’t thaw.