I want to remember every greasy cheeseburger I had with you that led me to me perpetually not eating them. Imagine, not eating cheeseburgers anymore. That’s how long it’s been, I’ve always been like that. Very specific craving. I started eating them again in recent years.
I love your stuff and I find your stuff. Order out just to not get to work on those days. Whatever so. It’s okay.
Everything lovely on my lonesome.
Not really, but it’s a life where I’ve looked my most stranded – well, what it wanted.
Settle down, no talk of a job just how you’re going to pay. I’ve got it settled.
And every time I thrust in my mind and wonder like refueling rocket jets I wonder what’s wrong with me.
And that’s just it, making waves again.
Don’t do it. The world doesn’t like it.
And I just had to try it.
And it was shitty.
And that’s okay too.
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