Five

powerlines and patio chairs. there's always the smell of cooking meat around this area,
especially around and after eight o' clock in the evening. Still have yet to see anyone
occupy the second floor restaurant/cafe. Maybe I should do it.



during the day time, the buildings are silent. you can see their old age and weariness;
the soot, stains and crusts of dirt show their defiance. but at night, with the help of neon
signs, shadows and reflective windows, they come back to life, even if only until dawn.



this was me. last week.
a forgotten carcass rotting on top of an unknown building.
it was for the better.



fate. is a load of bullshit. but in the case of her i truly believe it was meantto be.
teacher, mentor, and most importantly, friend. thank you for everything.
you are one i will miss most.



it's time to put on my dancing shoes again. i want to feel alive.