Forget all the happy happy joy joy love love spring spring flowers flowers birds birds shit, okay? Just forget all that and focus on, well, the other stuff, the stuff we like, the aesthetic of our formative years, which is to say, sleet, darkness, barbed wire, rats, crushed dreams and big hair. Yeah, the big hair is a problem. On the bright side, the latest haircut does mean I get to keep the unemployment longer. On the dark side, or, fuck, maybe it's the bright side too, because who the fuck knows except possibly Krishna in his unquiet dreams and he isn't telling, I'm single again.
Well, I'm goddamn good at it by now.
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6 comments:
This may be a little weird, but I wish we could hang out. Fuck shit to death, you know?
It's "rainbaby" using gmail ID, yes, I have moved into the last decade.
What The??? Do you want to talk?
Aw, dammit.
Hugs to ya, my friend.
suck :(
Thanks, y'all. Love you. Yeah, it's a thing, you know, nothing but a thing, a chicken wing, a piece of string, a brief and ill fated fling. Oh well. Fuck it. Shit happens. I'm okay.
Shit does happen, and so do hordes of friends who can merry-make with you, we're on call and don't even have to talk about it.
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