June 2012
I hate the junior class.
But I hate the senior class even more. Good fucking riddance.
I still have drunk in my mouth.
bleh.
You know what's kind of beautiful?
In French, you don’t really say, “I miss you.”
You say, “Tu me manques,” which is closer to, “You are missing from me.”
I love that. “You are missing from me.” You are a part of me, you are essential to my being. You are like a limb or an organ, or blood. I cannot function without you.
Anyone who says death isn't intriguing
stay-hungrystay-foolish:
Is a liar.
May 2012
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