i read 100 pages, rory, and i like it. send the new one.
many fleshes all in a row. love lies in the corner, thrashing and a bit chaffed. future projections where i look back with wisdom and fondness at this tender time sheathed in make-shift maturity- yes yes. however trivial, however non-commital, crushes from afar pack a punch. yes yes. unintentional movements, and we’sa come to the blows.
prince myshkin will have to wait awhile.
i feel ungrateful.
