In which I write a note about nothing in particular.
Nothing ever ends poetically
Nothing ever ends poetically. It ends and we turn it into poetry. All that blood was never once beautiful. It was just red. –Kait Rokowski, The October Revolution
This site is being rebooted in the open.
In which I write a note about nothing in particular.
Nothing ever ends poetically. It ends and we turn it into poetry. All that blood was never once beautiful. It was just red. –Kait Rokowski, The October Revolution