elysium
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Artist:
I consider going back to bed, but I can't even pull myself together enough to do that.it took seven hours, from 8am when i awoke and read the text message first thing in the morning that my father had died, until 3pm when i stepped inside the internet cafe after having exasperated every possible mindless activity inside a bar cafe, two bookstores, and a spa, seven hours for the news to hit me. and it hasn't stopped hitting me since, although i wish to fuck it would.it's true what everyone says: you remember everything leading up to the moment. i'd have loved to be listening to Three Mile Pilot when it came, or Mogwai, or Tribes of Neurot, but like Garden State before me, quite randomly, i had my moment around when these were playing:Isn't It Great to Be Alive : Spearmint : A Week AwayLovin in the Red : Theoretical Girls : Theoretical GirlsDrama Mine : Sebadoh : Bakesale
ah, the irony. send me a postcard of poplars, write to me that it was peaceful.
ah, the irony. send me a postcard of poplars, write to me that it was peaceful.




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