BLAH BLAH SAD SACK OF SHIT
Tits
Ass
CRASS
I'm still going to get a Crass tattoo someday because I desperately wanted one when I was 16. I read Penny Rimbaud's memoirs when I was in high school. Such an insane and intriguing read. Even stranger was the way it came into my possession. There was this kid who lived a couple streets over from me had been in the same classes as me since elementary school. We never really talked, and in fact, I don't think he ever really interacted much with anyone. He was really fucking weird. He wasn't really a punk, at least in the outward sense, but I was, and I guess he felt some kind of camaraderie, being two weirdos in a super bougie, white washed, preppy high school. So without ever saying more than a couple words to me he found me in the hallway after class and gave me that book and the meticulous notes (like pages and pages and pages of notes) he'd written on it. I think it happened a few times actually. Twas odd and very sweet.
Punk rock high school Monroe. Hehhhhhhhhh
Radiant, baby
and Stooppppppp being sad. I miss you!