"I don’t know what to do!" I sobbed the day I threw out all my books. Run away or smash things? I can do one or the other. Correction: I must do one or the other.
How many weeks has it been? I sit here, uncomfortable, jittery, with the feeling that I must hop in my car and leave or fold up my laptop, take it in both hands, and smash it against the wall again and again. What I cannot do is sit, this nothing that I am doing now, but I know that any movement on my part will ultimately turn into one or the other. Fight or flight.
I cannot move because I will be a destructive force either way, and so I’m consigned to sit here in a constant state of pre-decision. A constant state of surprise. The jack has popped out of the box and my seat is frozen mid-jump.
Today, I bought this book (for my sister, lets clarify that now ‘cause the only way I’m going anywhere near sperm is if I fall into a vat of it):
OF THE BRILLIANT:
STUFF IT HAS IN IT:
boys who can pull off facial hair are hot
i think you’re supposed to use a razor
This is the realest shit