i opened my inbox, intending to reply to a letter; it turned into a conversation instead. it's okay, that worked too. in whichever way it did, that is. but things go the way they do, or you could do a garfield and ask me not to tell life you're hiding behind the couch. i won't tell.

i want to watch the lord of the rings, the whole thing at one sitting. i want to take a boat ride out into the ocean. i want some retail therapy, some nightlight watching, some riverside sitting.

want some macha, some friends to be alright again.

oh! prawn fishing.

-

watch the waves lap against the boardwalk, black blanket of a night sky above.

night lights bright in the distance; do bobbing buoys glow as they float on water?

and hi, are you coming yet, if ever, at all, etc. i'm aware of the wait (unfortunately)

if you came now, i apologise in advance- the door's closed.

daddy closed the door because the man is smoking

am, at the moment, more than usually skeptical of adverts that promise fulfillment of potential, or dreams. or fulfillment of anything.