global amnesia, compacted white snow, covered red--was the movement of a hand for a dear friend. i am glad to see go, yet farewells are more often bitter at least thats what i know. you can substitute the world for yourself but you can never have both starshine and midnight on a cloudy day. i am sitting on a blackbird line. discovering what i need to stay alive, or what will make me like myself in other peoples eyes. i shed my skin and bore out a hole in my chest, grow the teeth that are meant to only sink in, and become one with the machine. living like a ghost. i dont know where to stay ok.