Inspired by Foster Huntington's fantastic side project, The Burning House, I gathered together a few things from my dorm room that I'd save in case Lathrop House ever burned down.
There is a void in my life I'm trying to fill, but whenever I go near it, whenever I try to touch it, make it better, fill it up, I make a mess of open wounds.
God, my fillers, they're knives to my little beating whatever.
Today was one of those days where I thought that wearing your heart on your sleeve really doesn't sound like such a bad
from the bus stop takes about 2 minutes. i think about so many random things during those fleeting moments like the way my shadow is cooler to look at than the mirror
This is what you get from not playing tennis in 82349 years, and then thinking that you'd "do fine" in a two-and-a-half hour round robin match play night...