I wanted to carve the ice with you

I wanted to carve the ice with you. How the blades fitted at the bottom of our soles--rather SOULS--made the softest of hearts on the hardest of liquids known to man. I wanted to lay down, back on the cold, head in the clouds, hand in your hand, and all that is cliched beyond comprehension. It is the brutality (carving), the strength (hardness), and utter fuzziness that leaves me without words. This isn't all I want it to be--my writing. Senseless. Senselessness. Simply, I want to carve the ice with you.

- August 15 (2007?), 12:50 am

Probably had just watched

"Eternal Sunshine"

or listened to

Stars' "Your Ex-Lover

is Dead."