eternal boredom or a great return to planet earth

sifting through the rubble of a train wreck is the tragic consequence of months off the rails

i'm having to re-teach myself lessons i thought i had learned forever ago

old friends are weights in my shoes and accountability is the harshest of detoxifying agents

i will forever envy anyone with a sense of consistency

all of my high school sweethearts remain the same and i am forever in flux

forever jealous

the rest of my existence could be spent as public entertainment

waxing and waning faster than the moon herself

or i could settle. sleep in the evening, wake in the morning.

drink my life straight, everything in moderation.

each option less appealing than the last

every outcome feels like a grave sentence when all of your heroes are dead (or worse, medicated)

imogen is unavailable currently, call back when they've stopped being insufferable and indecisive

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