Sunday, September 27, 2009
where I landed.
I'm drunk, on a Sunday, by myself, in bed, listening to denali. I just want to talk to chris. I want to tell him that I'm sorry and that I miss him. beyond that, well, I don't know. what I do know is that I'm tired of this fucking city, all my flaky friends, this whole sleeping alone thing, and missing my family.
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