18.11.20

There is nothing now. 
Nothing left or nothing there to begin with? 

Does it even matter? My burned out brain can't tell the difference. It never really could. A thought washed away as soon as it comes to life. A barely there existence. Black and white turned gray. So obvious. Predictable. Wake up. Do nothing. Let it go. 

We became paintings of New York skylines in white walled living rooms, San Fransisco hills, a yellow cab in Scandinavian homes. 

Fucking predictable. 

Mummy issues and nostalgia.

Switching to red wine when it rains more often than not. 

Sunset at 3PM.

We became nothing and everything fell apart around us. Slowly. 

Who could save us now?