How am I going to live without coming back to my room with Odiche napping under the covers, only noticing when the blanket starts to move, and then screaming? Was that sentence even grammatically correct?
Peanut DJing today.
Of quartz I remember your name.
O v e r w h e l m e d
Nature makes a lot of triangles. Illuminati confirmed.
A girl has no name.
Hello again, Atlantic.
Stacy can I come over, after schoo-oo-oo-ool?
It’s warm and warm and warm in Dhaka while I freeze and freeze and freeze in South Hadley. I don’t belong under 29 layers of fleece and a layer of flakey puff-pastry skin. I want a sun that burns. I want to go home.