In a world where we’re peachy it’s all glitter and sunshine, pink and summer and soft, it’s all dandy. I’m writing as if that’s not true, it is, yet we’re wet pavements & silent bus rides and the whole world trapped in our throats, coins owed, accidental bluntness, sad pasta Tuesdays and muscle knots. I can’t wake up in the morning, you can’t take your eyes off the road. We get drunk all wrong and all right. I fall asleep before I can tell you goodnight.