A boy gave me a rose. And now it is dead and I don't know what to do with it anymore.







I wore a shimmery red dress and drank champagne and ignored nostalgia. Time is running away from me again, because they were all right, you just can't catch up with time.
And formulae scream around my head and I drink too much coffee again, and make too many lists.
I don't know what to do about very much anymore.