doodoo

fuck space and time and fuck gravity while you're at it

There's just something about bad poetry and good pizza that really pumps my nads.

How could I have been cut if I was never even part of the team?

don't worry, I still can't love anything... but my dad is a television repair man.


rin, ring, ring, ring, ring, ring
banana phone

my agoraphobia is acting up again.


That's like, the fear of sweaters or something.

crap

it felt like being told the truth without speaking, like walking into the wrong room.

i found a headstone in a remote ditch in Suffolk, Virginia today. It has the name B. Butler Riddick on it and the birth date is Jan 1913 death date july 1913. It is very weathered and has a statue on the top that looks like it was broken off long ago. I carried out of the ditch that had 15 foot banks on both sides and it weighs roughly 100 pounds. I have it in my truck right now. I'm not sure what to do with it.

Any actions formerly garnering the response "why?! why me?" and resulting in emo tears now have the response "hm, how about that?" with a less melancholy attitude than before.

I don't know what to think of this.