Can we see in white-walled futures, an innocent perfection, emerge from promiscuous presents? A fresh blanket of snow washing away our sins. For it to feel right to be here.
Mostly I feel like I’m in middle school. A lack of emotional maturity. A man? Why do I place value in stoicism?
So I missed yesterday. and this is the morning after. despite masochistic tendencies, I will not exact punishment on myself. I’m too hedonistic. Not to say I didn’t try. Of most, it consisted of:
Pants?
I mean, sometimes that’s all there is to say. For some reason “disarm” by the smashing pumpkins keeps coming to mind.
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