Cork and board.

Creating a new frame for the memories I have thus far is fucking depressing. Why is it that when I set about creating something like this, my shuffled music is always somewhat more morose than usual. It seems to save them all up so that they come out in a bundle of sadness and thought.

I keep everything in the vain hope that one day I will throw it all away and be rid of it. The good and the bad. I never do. I keep it longer. The job at hand gets sadder. Escalation in the highest hopes and format.

The little things remind me of him.