yo let’s do some fucking prison tatts!

I’m at my house and there’s a party but I wish there wasn’t. I feel this way often.

“did you enjoy Noam Chomsky’s talk about American imperialism?”

No.

My boyfriend is playing music in the living room and is too busy to have a conversation. My aforementioned friend isn’t coming (probably going to a party with his best friend/my ex).

“I have bubbles!”

I’m hanging out with my cat. I’m just so exhausted. I don’t know if I can make it through this night without being a bitch? It’s only 11… Give me strength! More people have arrived, it won’t stop ever. The acoustic guitar. The over zealous laughter. The shouts of “beer me!” Give me strength.

“I kind of want to step on this fire.”

A song about his ex girlfriend, not me.

A scared cat.

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