you know the poppies in flanders field are in decline now? a tragedy really,, sacrifice(?) dignity(?) hate(?) controversy.

I’ve told pretty much everyone about it now and am feeling better. I’ll be completely over by the end of the week i think. i dont know if I will want to stick around though. its complicated but,
i do not crave to write you war and peace; not to say i do not wish i was tolstoy, bc sometimes that is all i aspire.

my name is just all the fitting now i guess. the fox that chose freedom over friendship. forsaking imprisonment for demise. let’s hope i don’t cross all those borders though :)


a final question though,, of the burning buildings, the rubble, and of the dead and the dying. those who remain under the declining poppies with their mouths unhinged and wide, gaping the question.

why(?)