No. 117

How can people who have never known what it means to be whole ever comprehend the emptiness of their existence? 

No. 116

The passing shadows of aeroplanes

No. 115

Tomorrow is calling, dear. Can't wait to see you. 

No. 114

Puddles left behind in the bathtub, dry up, through the day

No. 113

You're not done yet. Go look out over the world. Let me know when you begin to smile. 

No. 112

disappearing from everyone i care about, freezing half to death on the roof of a building, biking in wet shoes until my fingers stung and toes lost *all* feeling, walking over a frozen pond, snuggling at the top of a snow-covered hill overlooking boston, i-hate-myself-even-more-now sex in the car, sleeping in the freezing cold on a bench in the park, and two run-ins with the cops.

Fun? Maybe a little. Horrible? I want to get that night off me.
Still, i just don't want to be back.