I think I’m gonna fall into this thing again.
snapshot my roommates ripping songs apart with DJ programs far beyond human capabilities.
I want to leave for war. I don’t want to die or fight, just leave. Like Gatsby.
I wanna be Gatsby. and when I die, I want my Dad to come to the funeral and show everyone how secretly I was so much more amazing than everyone originally thought.
Get at me nerves, come to me. My heart has been broken by a book and I am a fractured end of bones between home relationships. No, Really, Is this growing up? I want to tell the world that I think it is foolish. and also that I think it is beautiful when it is naked.
