on your hand, trace your life lines— extend them with your dreams!
ONLY IF I HAD AN APARTMENT.
How the hazy fog meets the rooftops at their dwindling halo of what seem like fireflies of a dream skyline.
“And if they were to fall over that uncertain edge, their deaths would not be in vain.”
Filipinos talk loudly on BART.
ROCKRIDGE STATION. love it.
The sun shines brightly today. It stings my heavy eyes to which the new thick coats of waterproof mascara dry.
wearing BIG headphones.
The dark tunnels of the BART route cast dim reflections on the dirty windows which I use as mirrors.
The pigeons dare to soar close and above the electric lines. Cold air. Blue sky.
ONLY IF I HAD AN APARTMENT.
How the hazy fog meets the rooftops at their dwindling halo of what seem like fireflies of a dream skyline.
“And if they were to fall over that uncertain edge, their deaths would not be in vain.”
Filipinos talk loudly on BART.
ROCKRIDGE STATION. love it.
The sun shines brightly today. It stings my heavy eyes to which the new thick coats of waterproof mascara dry.
wearing BIG headphones.
The dark tunnels of the BART route cast dim reflections on the dirty windows which I use as mirrors.
The pigeons dare to soar close and above the electric lines. Cold air. Blue sky.
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