Screams of sunlight from some other weekend. The bitter petrichor of face-down kisses. An ocean of half dead lawns with a rent spine. Late afternoons of fraternity daydreams and stiff sine waves. Reminding myself about the proclivities of sleep. A caffeine stream with too much blood. Scanning succintly sobering summaries. No one likes a fucking downer (telling the truth). I'm sick of hating all the friends (I don't have). But I'm too lazy to get new ones (to discard). Maybe I've been selected to deteriorate by fifty. And thank god.
4:04 p.m. - 2022-03-04
Recent entries:
Of Weakness and Traitors - 2022-03-18
When Does It Become A Trait - 2022-03-18
Warp and woof - 2022-03-10
Swiper No Swiping - 2022-03-10
Post See Nineteen - 2022-03-04
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