Wednesday, December 28, 2011

living and crying, laughing and dying.

Remember when you were 19 years old and lying in your bed all winter, listening to your favourite bands? Christmas lights were up above and you had never dreamed of love. It was cold and when the wind hit the house, you could feel it come through the thin glass of that huge window in your room. What did it mean to live in letters and the repeating grooves of songs? Did you ever think about your time, even for a minute? Were things better then, or worse than you can even bring yourself to remember?.