February.

It is so easy to say that everything is going to be okay. That I am there for you. Trust me? I don't know how much words mean to you but I ve never gotten over the beauty of them. Or the lack thereof. I have a bad habit of overanalysing. I also have a bad habit of perpetually trying to explain myself. I also always need a listener. For I have never gotten over the beauty of a conversation. I even tried talking to the Hendrix poster. Maybe I should sing to it the next time. Maybe not.

This town is slow and dull and drenched with memories. This town is so beautiful in the rain. I think I am done with memories for a while now. There is a certain limit to reminiscence. I don't want my life to be one rainy night in a coffee cup. Maybe three. I ll think about it. But I need to get out of this place. I think I am too young to stay in one place for too long. Only old wise people deserve to do so. I am still foolish. Like a Chipmunk. Wonder where that came from. Sigh.

Some time ago I had a conversation when I said that the thing I hated the most was disappointing the people I care about. I cannot stand that feeling.

I guess that ship has sailed now. And you have no idea how bad it feels.