All I want to do is cry and sit and listen to angsty post-electric Dylan and eat my sunflower seeds and watch rocky movies because it makes me feel like at least someone is getting their anger/stress out by punching other people, when really I just feel like I was punched repeatedly and left to wilt.
Countdown: 21 days. Then it’s over, folks, then it’s over.
1 comment:
Where is he going? And just think you can sprawl in bed and wear ugly underwear and not brush your teeth when you wake up and eat tons of peanutbutter...anyways. Let's get together soon!
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