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 railsi'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
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