When I came back from Birmingham, I was so homesick for those people I basically made a fucking shrine with all of the bits and pieces i collected in England. 6 months later and none of those people talk to me. What does it kill you to tell someone they matter, and you miss them, and they had an impact on your life? maybe i see one of us dead at some point and i don’t want to deal with knowing i didn’t say something i should have. wow this is deep, i’m just listening to sad songs. whatever, i see a pattern with all humans.
So I met my bfflz when we were 13, playing soccer, and true story: she thought i was the most annoying little shit in existence and seriously, she’s totally right.
my little cubby
it’s magic
put my arms on one plane
my feet on another
i am in a cube of existence
brah
the sun is cooking my organs
fixed up my bonita
took her for a spin
shredded my shins
