by t*tomorrow
by t*tomorrow
by t*tomorrow
by t*tomorrow
by t*tomorrow
by t*tomorrow
She doesn’t want to be considered crazy but she also doesn’t want to be considered dead. She wants something definite, the real truth, one way or the other. Then she will know what she should do next. It’s this suspension, hanging in a void, this half-life she can’t bear. She can’t bear not knowing. She doesn’t want to know.