It feels good to finally try at guitar again, to learn something new by accident, to make the attempt of being creative and try to create. It makes me feel whole to sing again—along, around, and harmonize, too (or at least try to). And it feels like home to write again—I mean, to dictate, arrange, or whatever the right word is.

I’ve had an art that needed practice and I’m finally finished neglecting it. 

[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]

She Moves In Her Own Way by The Kooks. 

(Source: feelingwithsounds, via hypoiodous-acid)

  • Kalis: Trinidad, who are your best buddies?
  • Karen: I'm sorry, I don't really know what you mean.
  • Kalis: Who are your friends? Who do hang out with?
  • Karen: I don't really know. People, I guess.

2:46 AM Thoughts: I’ll bring a Sharpie instead of a stapler tomorrow/today. I’m sorry, everyone; I don’t have the time or the mentality. Today was definitely worth the trouble, but I hope to God the trouble wasn’t that much. 

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