was very complacent about not blogging the past few days. after all, i'd written notes on what i wanted to blog about. today, i look at the disheveled, sorry-looking scrap of paper i've been carrying around in my bag and all i see are purple etchings pretending to be words.
i.do.not.understand.my.own.writing.
i hate having to rely on my memory.
No comments:
Post a Comment