Monday, April 5, 2010

Sketchbook drawings for Tif's zine.



I'm staring at this mug of caffeine that's getting cold.
I guess I feel like crying. I had this bummer fucking dream.
I was on the bus and I heard this guy tell his girlfriend that he thinks of her as
a song he can't stop listening to. But he's scared one day she'll be
something he's been attached to for so long, the words won't be as special.
She didn't look offended or hurt by that. I probably wouldn't be either.
What a fucking way to put it.
What a familiar fucking feeling.
I play these songs that swirl around in my skull all day long,
but eventually they aren't that special anymore. Maybe in hindsight. But not the same.
BUMMER DREAMS.

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