haute

all of which must be followed by: this is largely a backward byproduct of pseudo-nostalgia, the love i have for whats been, and the love i still have for people i used to love, or for people i never thought i did love, which latter two are creating a bit of uncomfortable all-too-connected segmentation (cant tell the difference between where ive been and where im going any more; i just know theres space between here, there, and the greenest grass) as ive started affectionately calling this little out-of-body crisis thats, im sure, to be resolved as soon as i can hear out of my right ear again. thanks for your patience.