fuck you diaryland (unable to connect to database).
this music/ electronical needley sliding gliding music/ this music is what i've got when my brain is apple-sauce and my heart is (always) just blood.
and this disposition> hanging on me like a worn-out frock. i want to take it off and stand naked in this fucked-up jungle.
and it's been so long, that i can't confess...and it's been so wrong. right now, so wrong
