I wore his hoodie to work today. the same one I’ve been wearing since chinese new year. that fatal monday. I can hardly make out his cologne anymore but there’s still a faint scent leftover in the material. I haven’t seen him, I barely talk to him. we fight and we argue every time we see each other. the silence at the end of the day was too much for me to bear. I swallowed my pride and talked to him first. unresolved issues. lots of them. and then that other guy whom I cannot even remember. but I know he was there. I stopped writing the red district chronicles some time around august but I should probably go back to it. it’s been a year since I wrote my first letter to the guitarist. he’s still around, he’s still here. our friendship is rare and it’s the only reason why I am taking care of it. there’s too many other words on my mind but hopefully I will find the right way to reveal them soon.
eight o’clock in the morning, conversation got boring.