Today, alone, I zipped my black puffy jacket up the whole way, pulled up my hood and turned up Blink-182 on my iPod. Then I just wandered. Brick Lane on a Sunday is a marvellous place to be lost. Absolutely no one gives a damn.
And I am a freaking typical Libran.
Ferris Bueller gives some good advice.
I think I just made a deal with the devil.
Date: 9 October Location: the glamorous No. 48 tram. Sweaty palms. Burning ears. Sweaty palms. Burning ears. Sweaty palms. Burning ears. This is literally the only thought my mind is […]