something about this just makes me feel old.



every day is comfortable somehow


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all the time we spent in bed
counting miles before we set
fall in love and fall apart
things will end before they start

sleeping on lake michigan
factories and marching bands
lose our clothes in summertime
lose ourselves to lose our minds
in the summer heat, i might

-- sufjan stevens, 'holland'


'for a moment he vaguely remembered those summers that adolescents have, when they think they are about to irrevocably change.'

-- william t. vollmann, 'the atlas'
at the end of july i'm thinking about the way i was living a year ago today, or two years before that. the changes happen, but they come on slowly, imperceptibly; your life changes before your eyes like the moment the sky becomes the night sky officially, taking on black. you never see it even though you promise yourself you'll look harder the next time the sun sets, and night after night you start to forget, until you don't know why you cared in the first place. flux happens, just as it always did, life as a river, but it's no longer your focus.


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