the guy upstairs laughs so loud, sings shania twain, and squeaks when he has sex. it's ok though cause he is adorable and gay. his name is rylan. no it's not. yes it is.
sorry your mom is a mindfucker. i'm kind of glad my mother lost her grip on modern times. if she was bouncing round the internets i would have to hide even more. she calls me all the time but actually doesn't care if i pick up the phone. she doesn't really hear what i say. she basically lives sedated. of course i think this is sad because i have supreme issues watching people waste. even though i know it does no good for a single thing on earth i let my head spin sometimes too. i dunno. she buys me shoes and i have no qualms about wearing them. i earned that shit years ago.
i think you should hit things. when i read what you write i feel as though you want to hit things. perhaps people. perhaps me. but things will do.
Darlin did you hate
The way I made you travel
All pain and scrapes
Scrapes and safety hazards
i do not know whether to be offended. some parts of me sincerely would not exist if you had not noticed them.
i wonder if we will ever have a conversation beyond the shadows. i wonder if walking in the rain in the trees is as easy as you make it seem. it is hard for me to remember what it felt like to have something easy. i'm so close to becoming a shoplifter. i mean seriously... what will getting caught deny me?
questions. this random reflection makes me crave more in ways i constantly have to reevaluate. screw the meaning of life! are we ever going to get to the bottom of this? that's what i want to know. that's what i care about. to find out i am convinced that i have to keep my mouth and heart shut because the other method never worked before.
the more you say and show how you just don't
only makes me hear clearer
the words stuck in your throat.