oh, the clandestine opportunity of a source of information and irrationality.
i have nothing left.
clandestine. we dont use that word enough. also, oh, well, fuck it. words die faster than friends and/or family. words and people, theyre the same. they heal and hurt. as if only never to look inward.
i live in a world where acceptance is a ritual unparalleled to anything i can define.
a world where people give up.
humans torture.
demons exist eternally.
im drunk. im drinking too much and i know this. twelve a night we are up to and i dont much give a shit.
my son stood, on his legs, nothing to hold him up, for one minute today. i watched in awe. this little man, hes my savior.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment