Tuesday, March 24, 2015

Untitled (2)

Early this morning, a blood orange sun like I've never seen before and thick fog. And yet I can't truly enjoy the view. All I can think of is how deeply corrupted it feels. Because I'm not just passing by, this is my prison. A temporary prison, but a prison nonetheless. Is this what life is? Exchanging one prison for another? I wish I weren't such a bad student, I wish I could learn freedom from bell hooks.

And now, listening to Simon Joyner's Grass, Branch & Bone. The perfect soundtrack to my mood.

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