❝like most misery, it started with apparent happiness.❞

"hey - lydi, got a light?" "literally, metaphorically, or spiritually? because i have none." "that's a bit gloomy, don't you think?" "it's punk rock."

"We called it zero o’clock. Because to us time wasn’t about the number, it was about the feeling. And zero o’clock was the feeling of not being able to sleep but at the same time not caring. It brought this weird ataraxia and for some reason we liked it." His name was Finn, and his biggest flaw was himself ...even though he would never admit. He used to kiss me on the my forehead and when he did his eyes would glow in ways most eyes shouldn't. This isn't a love story though. We were insomniacs, and the restless don't find love, they find sleep. So when I look at his empty chair in class, or realize I miss his kisses I tell myself he's sleeping, and pretend he's not gone. Coming Soon in January 2015