Going through some old files, I remember, or rather re-remember (am reminded that) I used to be a really talented writer. A good poet, even, and that can be harder than writing structurally and coherently.
I spent the night crying and then getting better and then writing a letter to my alter-ego. I renewed my old crush on my old friend Heather in the process.
Goddammit, I am a good person.
And that can really fucking suck.
How many guys have had 4 women proclaim their deep and profound love for them (and as many more having said they would/could love them in a short time longer) by the age of 26?
That shit can TRIP YOU OUT AND FUCK YOU UP.
Surreal. Hard to know what to think about that.
Except: isn't that ridiculous?!
Also:
"...And a million days is worth one good laugh."
I spent the night crying and then getting better and then writing a letter to my alter-ego. I renewed my old crush on my old friend Heather in the process.
Goddammit, I am a good person.
And that can really fucking suck.
How many guys have had 4 women proclaim their deep and profound love for them (and as many more having said they would/could love them in a short time longer) by the age of 26?
That shit can TRIP YOU OUT AND FUCK YOU UP.
Surreal. Hard to know what to think about that.
Except: isn't that ridiculous?!
Also:
"...And a million days is worth one good laugh."
Have you found what you are looking for love-wise?