

summerRained-out. Pan-fried and deionized. Bored and bewildered in a three-color kaleidoscope on a strip of sugar and a tube of jams. Degaussed and refrained on the drive home and your twelfth bowl since getting out of -- but not including -- work. And why are all the interesting people always so fucked up? And why do they enjoy getting so fucked up? And are unsurveiled vices really all personal independence can boast? Unshaved and pregamed across a parking lot of whatever packie or c-store sells the right brand of butts. Post-modern but proactive as your best friend blows his fifth Addie of the work day. And whats good with beingsummer


when we are marriedwhen we are married which we both agreed we're against i hope we have two children that we both agreed would be mistakes and i hope we'd have a daughter who would have your too green eyes and that our son would have my mess of a personal composition because i think we boys are most charming at our damnedest and when we show up together at parties and still have things to say i hope that our friends hate us so that we can be alone during our time when we are married which we both agreed we're againstwhen we are married


epiphanyi had a realization today. it was one of those stupid epiphanies that i'm having to myself all the time. did you know that about me? i have some great realization about god or people or life just about every day. it's wonderful, and i really have to wonder why people are so against having one themselves; but that's the thing i'm trying to get at, because in the midst of one of these big embarrassing realizations i was having i found that i was exactly who i wanted to be. my room is a mess, i don't know how long its been since i changed my sheets or my underwear and i can't find my favorite pick or even my notebook and the only penepiphany
I love the way you write. If you wrote books I'd buy every single one of them.
You should post more often. :]
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*checks out your gallery*
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{ and the rivers of blood pushed back in my veins. }
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