I am going to fucking lose it.
So in my proffessional opinion, a bad relationship is like a cancer.
And in that metaphor, if you can kill the cancer it's best to cut the rotten flesh out of your heart and burn the wounds closed. And then quit smoking. As if smoking could give you heart cancer, point is I would never want to look at a pack of cigarettes again.
So what do you do when a fucking pack of cigarettes haunts you like a ghost and follows your every move and won't let you forget that you were the one who decided to start smoking in the first place?
Fists will fly.
Hands must be thrown.
There must be an end to the ends.
And as of September 6th I'm playing OSU rugby. Yay!
Thursday means burritos.
Bryce is leaving for the North Shores and I wish I could go with him.
Thanks to one and all.
And in that metaphor, if you can kill the cancer it's best to cut the rotten flesh out of your heart and burn the wounds closed. And then quit smoking. As if smoking could give you heart cancer, point is I would never want to look at a pack of cigarettes again.
So what do you do when a fucking pack of cigarettes haunts you like a ghost and follows your every move and won't let you forget that you were the one who decided to start smoking in the first place?
Fists will fly.
Hands must be thrown.
There must be an end to the ends.
And as of September 6th I'm playing OSU rugby. Yay!
Thursday means burritos.
Bryce is leaving for the North Shores and I wish I could go with him.
Thanks to one and all.