oh my pictures are gone again.

i was doing magazine layouts when suddenly, the morning crept up and spilled sunshine sauce into my window. my stomach was growling and my face was bloodless. 8 am, i crawled into bed and lay watching the dust particles float about in the light. tweet tweet said a feathered fucker. beautiful morning. now, i'm back in front of the computer staring at a page tt refuses to accomodate three reviews and a few pictures. i swear my ass will be as flat as a changi runway soon (if it already isn't).

when you have a 1219-long playlist, and it starts replaying songs, you know you've crossed tt line between... between- i duno wat. i cannot think anymore. andrew, for my birthday, i want tt beatles shirt you wore on monday. thanks.


on play: Honey and The Moon, Joseph Arthur