what are we doing what are we doing what are we doing anyway.

a poem: winter is rough. last winter was too. it's hard to not dissolve into a puddle of uninspired goo. don't ever kickbox kangaroos. they wear big shoes.

no yoooou're immature.

winter is a piece of shit though.

for the first time since last i looked, i could look at old pictures and feel absolutely nothing. no useless longing, no regrets, no wishing things could be different. christopher is the best boy in the whole world and i wish he was here. i believe a bath with dinosaurs and 40z. should be in order for next weekend. sho nuff.

oh mama, long island is full of drama drama.

i love the fourth of july. i'm going to get drunk crash my bike and die die die! love you, sweetheart. purrrrrrr.

hey creegay, wake the fuck up, NOW.

it's soooooooo hot out. i want to nap in the library. ick.

j/k. summer forever, broseph. <3

i like my job. i got enough sleep.

i love him.

the end.

we are going to build a treehouse. but first i have to figure out how without harming the tree. any tits? i mean....tips? i used to have this knowlege but it seems to have clit...ummm...slip't, my mind.

i am but a little tree..

..and a singing bird lives inside my heart.

yes. i mean all of this literally.

(dear sweetheart,

never let me go. all is well. kiss.)

rating yesterday:

..pluses:

girls peeing. crude depictions of the former drawn in sharpie.

avocads.

a variety of hugs.

the river and its magical powers.

the fact that it's the day before i'm off to see the boy.

..minuses:

sunburn.

...yesterday was pretty good.

ps. sorry for waking you up.

pps. uuunnnnngh get sum, get summmmmm..

<3