Brightly coloured imaginations, fall and winter fashions, there seems to be truth in the trees. Just not feeling festive, seeing those that missed us, and crying out mistakes we've made. Thinking happy thoughts always minding manners Simply saying "Hello", "Goodbye" and "I love you". I'm so fuckin' full of joy I could cry or piss myself. Just happy to still be breathing and alive. Somehow still do bad things sometimes without thinking, excuses cough up as blank spaces and lines.
