// I was inspired today by this song.

This is morning,
That's when I spend the most time,
Thinking about what I've given up.
This is a warning,
When you start the day just to close the curtains,
You're thinking 'bout what I've given up.

Where are you now?
As I'm swimming through the stereo,
I'm writing you a symphony of sound.
Where are you now?
As I'm rearranging songs again,
This mix could burn a hole in anyone.
But it was you I was thinking of.

I read your letter,
The one you left when you broke into my house,
Retracing ever step you made.
And you said you meant it,
And there's a piece of me in every single
Second of every single day.
But if it's true then tell me,
How it got this way?

Where are you now?
As I'm swimming through the stereo,
I'm writing you a symphony of sound.
Where are you now?
As I'm rearranging songs again,
This mix could burn a hole in anyone.
But it was you I was thinking of.

But I can't get to you,
I can't get to you.

And this is my mixed tape for her.
It's like I wrote every note,
With my own fingers.

Jack's Mannequin - The Mixed Tape

I was up 'till 1 AM yesterday night/this morning, turning my Dick Tracy t-shirt into a bag. Gosh, I loved that t-shirt. But it had gotten all raggedy and worn out. There were ginormous holes in the armpits and it was fraying everywhere. But now, it's a rad shoulder bag that fits everything. Much better.