The friend series

This one had a poise with which he played the guitar. Musicians have appealed to me more than anyone out of professions in the local dating circle- I guess that would be nothing new considering I look for my parallel lives in other people- what I could’ve been. Drummers, photographers, army guys, cashiers, bartenders- a breath of fresh air
This one I met while smoking some high grade hashish at a friends jam room while we created what we thought were masterpieces but when heard to it sober it was utter shit.
But theres absolutely nothing else to do on a Friday afternoon in this godforsaken city. You eat lunch, smoke a j, throw filters on photos. But you learn to enjoy it.

I’ll be home for next year darling,

i’ll be home.

Lying in this moment do I realise the foolish mistakes I had gone and done. The fights that I picked over trivial issues. The hearts that I broke without intending to or in some cases with a purpose. My heart lay burdened with the kind of sadness I can’t put into words. It aches for everyone’s faults and mistakes collectively. It aches that it couldn’t offer much words of solace. It feels like it’s going to burst out any moment from it’s cavity and beg me to let it cease it’s function. The merciful way out.
How do I explain this to anyone but me. My heart doesn’t cry for me, it cries for all our collective follies. It cries for everyone I’ve had the pleasure to meet.
I’m sorry- I couldn’t do much. This doesn’t contain any answers but I had to write something down before I know for sure I don’t have a chance.

And you know with her you can’t just ask what’s up you have to properly sit down and passive smoke with her for 6 hours to get to know her story.


A healthy argument with the boyfriend is somehow I know my relationship is on the right track.

being drunk and in love is not a crime.

our souls are stars glowing inside of us.