Fleetwood Mac is crackling through the speaker and I’m looking up at her from the floor. The fan blades are spinning over her head and she is singing along. We’ve over clocked our hours and pumped out our energy through our hands. We are as fire to fuel: ignition. A force tunneling through obstacle to attain satisfaction. This is love this is love, that I’m feeling.
A girl gave me a book today. Because she felt bad for me.
It did nothing more than make me more upset.
Gifts depress me.
Is that strange?
I don't know.
A girl gave me a book today. Because she felt bad for me.
It did nothing more than make me more upset.
Gifts depress me.
Is that strange?
I don't know.
No comments:
Post a Comment