Fuck cibatta burgers, seriously.
Last night...
I got ready too early.
Competition told me I deserved someone hotter.
Was hipster beyond comparison.
The party was busted by the cops...again.
I met that kid...brianandrewmikeashleystevechris? again.
I participated in a dance party.
Shit got fucked up.
I slept on a tiny couch.
This morning and afternoon...
I tossed and turned, and walked back in the rain at 7:00 a.m.
I woke up at 1:00 p.m. with a headache.
Brought waves of the bittersweet.
It was difficult to bring myself to call someone I wanted to hear.
Things were stirred up, and I then called a friend.
I tried to be okay.
I decided to completely forego a shower, despite feeling disgusting.
I made a stupid decision about clothing.
This evening...
I didn't know it, but I wasn't going to get to create any art.
Traffic was bad on the way to San Francisco.
I heard more electronic music than I have ever heard in my life.
I almost died several times in the streets of SF.
We got very lost.
Post-modern interpretive dances tried to entertain me for the first time.
Something over the top still almost brought tears to my eyes.
We created a new euphemism.
I still regretted the clothing decision.
I walked in the arms of a girl for warmth and didn't care because hell, it's SF.
We stayed and mingled in the depths of Californian bohemia.
I drove from SF back to Santa Clara.
I got the wrong order.
That probably took me a lot more effort than I had thought, because I thought that this would save me time from telling each individual story. But, psh, why tell the whole story when I'm going to tell it to you in detail when we talk or see each other, right?
I got ready too early.
Competition told me I deserved someone hotter.
Was hipster beyond comparison.
The party was busted by the cops...again.
I met that kid...brianandrewmikeashleystevechris? again.
I participated in a dance party.
Shit got fucked up.
I slept on a tiny couch.
This morning and afternoon...
I tossed and turned, and walked back in the rain at 7:00 a.m.
I woke up at 1:00 p.m. with a headache.
Brought waves of the bittersweet.
It was difficult to bring myself to call someone I wanted to hear.
Things were stirred up, and I then called a friend.
I tried to be okay.
I decided to completely forego a shower, despite feeling disgusting.
I made a stupid decision about clothing.
This evening...
I didn't know it, but I wasn't going to get to create any art.
Traffic was bad on the way to San Francisco.
I heard more electronic music than I have ever heard in my life.
I almost died several times in the streets of SF.
We got very lost.
Post-modern interpretive dances tried to entertain me for the first time.
Something over the top still almost brought tears to my eyes.
We created a new euphemism.
I still regretted the clothing decision.
I walked in the arms of a girl for warmth and didn't care because hell, it's SF.
We stayed and mingled in the depths of Californian bohemia.
I drove from SF back to Santa Clara.
I got the wrong order.
That probably took me a lot more effort than I had thought, because I thought that this would save me time from telling each individual story. But, psh, why tell the whole story when I'm going to tell it to you in detail when we talk or see each other, right?