(no subject)
Well hell what the hell do I know. Not enough. Not a lot.
Within the past month my family has told me that other family members have died, and on both accounts it turned out to be untrue. This partly has to do with my mother's fading memory, but it's still weird. Death, or presumed death (or presumed death), has a funny way of reminding me that I don't do enough. And I definitely don't say enough. I fucking love the goddamn fucking shit out of you. Like even every terrible part of you that you hate about yourself, maybe. And all the weird shit you do too. And the annoying shit. All the shit out of you. In this era it's a lot harder for me to prove howwww fucking true it is (is that even true or am I justifying my laziness and lack of creativity? I DON"T KNOW!), but I think I mean that will all of my heart and soul and it's the first thing I want to say to you on the pretense of death. The second thing is (unless you're family, especially if you're male) "Will you marry me?" because life it too short to be unromantic. I've taken the Initiative I-6669 to care about every one I encounter, if the circumstance is right. Because I actually do have the capacity to do such a thing. Anyway, they tore down the building that featured the bathroom that I took my very own senior photo in. That means that I'm getting old as dirt. Some other funny things:
I have to watch my Mom slowly kill herself, and fade. And fade. And fade.
I'm still in love with you and I don't give a give.
I'm so impatient about hot tea and coffee that my tongue has been burnt since November.
I feel a distance growing between us that I haven't been able to remedy.
ah... later... more.
Within the past month my family has told me that other family members have died, and on both accounts it turned out to be untrue. This partly has to do with my mother's fading memory, but it's still weird. Death, or presumed death (or presumed death), has a funny way of reminding me that I don't do enough. And I definitely don't say enough. I fucking love the goddamn fucking shit out of you. Like even every terrible part of you that you hate about yourself, maybe. And all the weird shit you do too. And the annoying shit. All the shit out of you. In this era it's a lot harder for me to prove howwww fucking true it is (is that even true or am I justifying my laziness and lack of creativity? I DON"T KNOW!), but I think I mean that will all of my heart and soul and it's the first thing I want to say to you on the pretense of death. The second thing is (unless you're family, especially if you're male) "Will you marry me?" because life it too short to be unromantic. I've taken the Initiative I-6669 to care about every one I encounter, if the circumstance is right. Because I actually do have the capacity to do such a thing. Anyway, they tore down the building that featured the bathroom that I took my very own senior photo in. That means that I'm getting old as dirt. Some other funny things:
I have to watch my Mom slowly kill herself, and fade. And fade. And fade.
I'm still in love with you and I don't give a give.
I'm so impatient about hot tea and coffee that my tongue has been burnt since November.
I feel a distance growing between us that I haven't been able to remedy.
ah... later... more.