Thank you for calling me back to sanguine dreams of majesty, travesty and everthing else. Only with sheer obstinance do i choose to mull with so much earnest, sitting on the railings with feet dangling above torrid currents.
Do we choose to stare so contumaciously at the ruined subsidence beneath us? Reminding ourselves in zealous lecture; subsistence, subsistence, subsistence.
To remember you in Death Cab for Cutie, to cherish you at Okkervil River, to commemerate while Shouting Out Loud, to celebrate Clapping Your Hands Saying Yeah. And to forget heartbreak with the Twilight Sad.
2007 was the year i died.
We were the sons and daughters 