ninawang
i can feel my tongue on your gums because i think i love you, when you said you cried, i could feel it and it didn't feel good. but you feel so good. you're going to leave, and then i'm going to leave and you said that's kind of sad. i think i should stop.
back in world history, i could never remember if the treaty of versailles was at all fair; it always got mixed up in my other thoughts. you know, the more important ones. like my hair and my weight loss plan.
rochester new york is going to be a mere memory in less than a month's time. a little bit sad because there's so much more i could have done. i don't really think i even did anything, how did i get here without doing anything? if it's all just practice, what's the real thing? in less than a month's time, i'll also be a legal adult and the first thing i'm going to is have a legal drink in a country that doesn't give a shit and i'm going to empty out my emotions. that'll be the bridge from point a to point b and i think it's something i want to cross, but mostly likely i'll just fall off and end up nowhere, just looking up at a bridge i wasn't strong enough to stomach. that, to me, is somewhat sad too.
the cap and gown is nested in my disgusting backpack, the one that i wrote my favorite lyrics on during calc. underneath, i just realized, i'm not going to wear anything.
capture it, the high associated with stormy weather. there's no storm right now so what else is there to do but meet a convict who's truly sorry, a sad story. no better high than being sad. that's not true whatsoever but i wanna lie.
i love being a reporter because i never really left high school, said the girl with a fake tan fake nails fake eyelashes, probably fake eyebrows too.
i love being a reporter because i get money, said the secret sugar daddy
i love being a reporter because i get to be seen, said one of the hot cuomos
i can remember exactly the sense of timelessness that was present that night, as if eternity was real. and you were real, a living dream: but like any dream, so fragile. the december sky darkened the world outside us and you were the light: but like any light, a little out of reach. but see, that night, it really was eternity because the stars had aligned and on a sofa in a coffeeshop, you got to me. the architecture of your mind your body your heart: time goes by, but i won't forget. i'll have a drink now. here's to the unforgettable moments of my life.
surprise of all surprises, the hall monitor was caught in a scandal that shocked even the most accomplished in the world of petit thieves and adulterers and chronic drug abusers. and no one even knew her name: this girl had no name, no essence. just a split personality, two of them: one covering what the other was afraid of.
questions linger and i don't ask them. that's the quest. i'll find the courage one day to find the truth, to bear with it
insects are manipulative. they're disgusting but don't be branded as an "animal hater." fuck that. i need to replace the word fuck.
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