i guess i could start with where i was a week ago: i'm sitting in the kitchen of a mental hospital with a styrofoam cup of hot chocolate in front of me. i'm staring at my reflection in the dark window. my long hair is loose and my eyes are burning gently back at me. if you're listening, you'll know that the tree outside is hiding under the snow because it's dead. oh, please understand. no matter where i go, the view stays the same. "go find another lover to bring-a; to string along." out of my loneliness, i've carved you monuments that you'll never see. your indifference ignites them, leaving ash. ash. nothing but ash.