and realized that all of her things didn't mean anything to her.
all her things were nothing, shadows of memories of things that meant something to her.
i have ceased to do anything meaningful in who know how long.
my hair my or may not be infested with bugs from texas that aren't helping to pay the rent.
some fucking body thinks that they love me,
but the motherfucker can't hold a candle to the vibrating darkness in my heart.
my dentist wants to charge me 4000 dollars to salvage the wreckage of my teeth, which were never problematic until now.
i cried in the office and immediately became tense and strikingly aware.
there is always something to scratch, and some terrible piece of poetry to be written.
abbey road doesn't sound so good on repeat when it isn't on the way to somewhere else.
and i still can't figure out how to tell him i love him, because he won't let me.
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