I hope this block of text makes your eyes hurt.
Let's just sit in my room, turn off the overhead, just leave the lamp in the corner on, and I'll put on all the sad songs that fill my laptop's hard drive and we can just talk for as long as we want or just be quiet and I got a bottle of white sitting in the back seat of my car, shit'll be chilled in a half hour if I go get it now, let's open it up and drink it quickly and talk about things we haven't talked about (if there are any) and I can pretend I know just what you mean and you can pretend you care and it will be gorgeous and if I go out to the stoop to smoke you'll join me, or if you don't you can lie and say you missed me when I come back and we can talk about places we want to go and movies we've seen and who've we met who's famous and it can just go on and on like that for hours or maybe minutes; I can spend at least twenty minutes talking about Morrissey but all of it's stale and been said before, and maybe we'll look for something funny to watch on youtube, maybe we'll dance in place, when something comes on, and I know you'll make fun of me for the scary clown picture I have above my bed, and the fact that my books are all piled in front of almost empty bookshelves and I'll try and explain how I've been rearranging them for months, the old style got too much to bear because I went from the angelic to the diabolic and then found myself staying only on one side for all my reading; needless to say the side that doesn't hold Augustine, and I really really hope you understand why I can't just make them alphabetical but have to find some other way, something that makes me think and I don't really write anymore, because everything I write seems stale, and I can't even write essays anymore, I try and it just sounds like I'm an asshole because there's so much I haven't read yet and so much that I haven't listened to, and you'll lie to me and tell me it seems like that can't be true but I'll just keep insisting and maybe the wine will start working magic and the conversation will become more lucid; we can talk about all the things we shouldn't do and how we'll do them anyway and all the people that we love and we hurt anyway because we love them and we'll talk about how much we feel we've lost and go over every personal defeat that taught us that hope is failed artifice and we can discover just how similar we are and maybe if it rains we can just go out and walk in it for hours till we are both drenched and we can laugh because it's summer and it's warm out and there is so much left to all of it, so much fucking living and dying to do.