Every note is still in me and I hear it reverb through headphones and car stereos and ringtones. It's an overwhelming acknowledgment that its OK to be sad, its OK to give up your control and its OK to just give up. And I can't, I won't, as I stare into the sky. Hank Williams died in a limo before he was old and wrote sad songs, songs so sad that sad girls had to go and make them sadder. As I stare out across the south end of my city, I wonder about the people. I can only see their windows or shapes of houses. I hope some of them out there are debating whether or not to kick the chair over. I hope that some of them are OK. I'd like to think that the sunset is a blanket of "it'll be all alright tomorrow" that we can all lay down underneathe and cuddle.
P-N
W-S
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