S.

ask me something

Diary of a New Yorker. Take a look around.
Lonely rides back home—whether the sun is up or headed down—with strangers who consciously construct their interpretation of you and your story, but refuse to say a single word.

Lonely rides back home—whether the sun is up or headed down—with strangers who consciously construct their interpretation of you and your story, but refuse to say a single word.

November 11 at 06:46pm