Protect Your Aching Heart with Portuguese Wine

"Bones, starved of flesh, surround your aching heart, full of love..." - "Bones," Editors

"And I remember... Still feels painful to remember, last December...With pills and wine, I drown your [memory]..." - "Pills and Wine," Swizzle Tree

I'll write up a diary entry for this day when I think of something, when the inspiration strikes. I guess back-blipping so much is taking its toll, after all. If you don't write everything down right away, the days bleed together in not entirely attractive or cohesive contrails, with mildly unsuccessful results. There's a bumbling, fidgety clarity that makes a month look like a cup of ugly grey-brown paint water (You know, after you've cleaned your paint brushes of too many colors one too many times?).