Tunes in my head: Sentimental Hygiene by Warren Zevon
Books of a page: Lolita by Vladamir Nabakov
Atmosphere: Melancholic.
I miss you.
Not who you've become.
But who you were.
I know there's no chance of that changing.
But I can still write it down.
I can still scrawl down my hopes onto the page.
Why?
There's no turning back the clocks now.
Because someone else sets them.
Even all of the moments in a box are fading away slowly.
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