After all this is said and done, what has changed? We're all but moments of singular innocence, temporary cognisance in an array of similar experiences.

ugh, this always happens, I get inspired to write, then by the second sentence I can't fucking think.

hmm, touching F & J with my index fingers, some comfort in there, like solitary solidarity.

fuckit

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Joakim - I Wish You Were Gone lyrics

came to me like a hollow vision
and now, like a ghost.
came to me like the walking danger,
how could you be so beautiful?
you lied to me
and i want oblivion
how should i know
you're not a ghost?
but i don't know
that you aren't a ghost;
you came to me,
and now i wish you were gone.