i walked home in the snow.
true, it was kinda sleety.
but there's snow two ways about it.
i'm revisiting a past me.
it's amusing how thoroughly.
it's like...
isn't that the worst?
endless metaphors.
it's like renting a furnished home and all the furnishings are things you once owned.
you step across the threshold and you're surrounded by the comfortably familiar.
of course unconsciously you had to have assembled all the elements.
two nights running bythos gave me pictures of you.
it's best not to lay plans.
but i'm telling tales again.
