I’m so fed up with everyone and everything; I just need to get a break from it all.
But I can’t. I suspect I’ll be flipping some tables soon.
My own mind is the most delightful and the most dangerous company of them all. Tricky.
I took a detour on my walk home
and all the scents, the warm air of a summer night and the right music
I just.. wish it was the last year’s summer all over again
or the year before
or even the year before it
I don’t like where I am right now, I ask does it need to be this way?
I don’t know, man, just.. I hate this whole vulnerability thing and all the scars that it’s left and all the grownup problems and mess it’s making
this is all way.. beyond me.
so a friend sent me this very good fanfic, but halfway in I realized it was still ongoing and I was headed in for certain doom - and now that I’ve read everything that’s come out so far, I’m just sitting here, with nothing elst to do, like…
so, based on a post on tumblr I renamed my bookmark for fb to faces on books and now everytime I see it I have this overwhelming urge to rename it to feces on books.
because that’s what’s fb about
my work ethics.
day o1. “Good day to you, sir, yes, indeed, anything you need, right away!”
day o2. “Thank you very much, have a nice day.”
day o3. “Thanks. Bye.”
day o4. “ashfjksdykhgbjsd ugh gtfo.”
day o5. “HULK. SMASH.”
and his hands would smell of chocolate tobacco,
damask pillows scattered; oh, sweet, warm May wind
caressed the sacred memory
a touch of thousand stars
and castout glory