Once a sceptic, now the critic and you figured you finally found a place of your own amongst the cold and timid souls, where only failure knows your name. Look around for the closest to blame but look no further than the hands beneath your arms.
And now you're six feet down buried with, with your passing fame!
The greatest tragedy is not your death, but a life without reason. Life has no purpose.
i.c. // October
No not yet. I’m pretty certain I know the name of your blog.
I turn 28 at the end of October. Which part of the world do you currently call home?