Fatigue
I half expected you to be there, asleep on my couch. One of the two others who have keys to my house, the other being accidental, I wouldn't have been surprised to see you curled up there.
But you weren't. Photography of you doesn't give off the same impression of death as it had when I started not spending time with you. When I determined that enough was enough, I would see shots of you and see the walking dead. Now, a strange amount of life pervades your look and I can't help but wonder why.
The tone in your voice, I can't place it. I shouldn't be expected to, I am tired and worn, going to playland is kinda like drinking. Hamlet was genius, I adore the choreographer and was stupidly happy that the music was IDM (yes, a Shakespeare production that used IDM, I <3 that show). But I'm tired, so very very tired. I should eat, but instead I write and then I'll sleep.
Written On: Home Computer