late night, sleep fight.

so, i'm in the bed. listening to chrisette. she puts so much emotion into her music. she means it. i love that.

so, i was thinking about myself, and others. about the cities within which i have resided. both against my will, and willingly. i think i really want to write a book. even if nobody ever reads it. just to record the experiences that have birthed my attachment, or the lack thereof, to these cities. i would have to write it, after convincing myself that nobody will ever read it. thats when i do my best writing i think. when i imagine that its only for me to be contented with. when i imagine that there is no possibility that it will be criticized or looked down upon.

so yeah, i'm going to start. it'll contain concerns, fears, memories, pain, firsts, lasts, love. every city has its story. and so does every individual that ever set foot in one. thats how it can commence. tip my teapot of a heart, and pour it out.

night loves