Okay, today is the day of many updates and prose/fiction.

Maybe if i tried hard enough.

I've never been looking for a way to blame myself for everything but i always seem to find it.

Maybe if i was careful...

Or maybe not.

Do you smell the coffee?She's sitting,

they're standing- right over there.

The back of her head is so beautiful. Those standing shuffle thier feet
and smoke.

Do you understand, my friend? I don't know much about who you are.

The way you hold your head.

I can say, and i think you would know, that
what you do isn't half as important as what you feel.

Or perhaps it is the opposite. I dunno, i'm a bit lost.

Its amazing--how these others that are supposedly
like us push and pull.

The scene outside remains, the shuffling people smoke, and the girl sits far in front of you.

A scattering of people. All rotting away slowly.
All killing themselves and each other a bit faster than the last one.

I don't know where i, or maybe even you, might fit into this.