i_am_not_a_fortune_teller raze one afternoon, a little less than five years ago, we were sitting and talking when i got this image of you, almost superimposed onto the you i was looking at in that moment. i could see your hair overrun with grey. your face not lined or marked by age, but older. new glasses. thicker frames. something wizened in your smile. and i could see us still meeting and having sprawling conversations decades down the line. we haven't talked or been in the same room now since two summers past. i don't think we'll ever speak again. your crow-black hair will slowly fill with grey, your glasses will change, your face will age without turning to leather, and your smile will grow more crooked, but i won't be there to watch it happen. shows how much i know. 130714 what's it to you? who go blather from