"I felt like crying but nothing came out. it was just a sort of sad sickness, sick sad, when you can't feel any worse. I think you know it. I think everybody knows it now and then. but I think I have known it pretty often, too often."
— Charles Bukowski (Tales of Ordinary Madness)
Sunday, March 04, 2012
un-kempt heart
Even in the sunniest of days my rainclouds approach the heart... over-cast my soul.
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