remain before I jump in my driving car, and head east, stopping only to refill my tank, both gasolinic and digestive. I million things used to lie in front of me, and they have dwindled to a few, only to propogate a million other things which shall soon fall away behind me.
Mailbox: a Free Burrito at your neighborhood imitation place. I think the only thing authentic about this place is it's inauthenticity. Orange cans make it hard to drive. Dumptrucks, interchanges, detours. Oh to drive at a constant speed for more than 10 seconds. I hope my car doesn't hyperventilate on the way home. My AC is broke. I might burn alive. I seem to recount a certain tale I heard from arig101. Inopperable AC, DDR with DJ sammy, towelhead, redbulls. This post makes little to no senses.
In the words of Pete, "Let's start an emo and name it suicidal rhapsody."
Hello world!
11 years ago
2 comments:
Were you drunk when you wrote this?
Either way, it's awesome.
hahahaha - I love you AND Kevin.
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