it's perfect and windy and fall. a little rain, more perfect. i'm smoking cigarettes because i can and i don't fully comprehend the consequences. maybe i will in two weeks when i'm 25. the glowing peak of my cigarette reminds me of that little candle we light during the christmas eve service. you know, the one you light at the end when everyone gets absorbed and sings silent night.
via text:
me: i think we should go to a psychic.
me: partly for a blog piece. but mostly for the soul.
t: can we please, you know we both need it.
me: i think this is something you can use your parents' credit card for. say you're bleeding emotionally.
t: i mean, i don't know what i would do without your brilliance. we are committing to doing this tomorrow.
me: deal.
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1 comment:
How was the psychic? I wanna get my tarot read!
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