One hundred-forty-fifth Nail

You know. I've realized that out of nearly all the people from my world, I'm probably remember the most. How tragic. Sometimes things are lost through choices made and other time, things are shifted anew. I've died and come back and the air is never chillier, and yet the air never seem so much clearer. It's nice sometimes to not worry about guns exploding on every corner and blood soaking into the ground. It's refreshing.

Too bad my life is not my own.

( filtered to knives; unhackable )

I need a drink.