hello again, old friend. quiet night, the sound of two tiny goldfish hearts beating. no sound from mine, or maybe i just can't hear it anymore. death is not a singular event, but a quiet collection of heart breaks and disappointments. the band will keep playing, and it will bring hope. its okay if i can't hear them. my heart is still. one day i will wake, i promise. my heart will again beat like a bass line, and i will again be happy that i met you.
