“He thinks that morals are paintings on walls and scruples are money in Russia.” [imdb]
Hours pass, and she still counts the minutes that I am not there..
I swear I didn’t mean for it to feel like this—like every inch of me is bruised
the ordering of objects couldn’t hide what’s missing.
... love is not these belongings that surround you,
though there’s meaning in the memories they hold.
Excuse me, are you lost? Perhaps you would care to visit the site map