we used to talk on the phone every single day (nooneknowshowitreallygoes).

its strange the way people will window shop on your life or score it for style and grace.

my personality and everything about me is just a carefully constructed collage of magazine articles and flashy pictures.

i am (not) real.

the puppy is purple after spilling a grape soda on himself. he then ate the tropic of cancer by miller. paperback, so i guess it went down easier.

sometimes the days spent all by myself in my head are the scariest.

its enough to make you want to pack it up and call it a day.

all i can do is read and write and wait.

ihavecodedmessagesforyou.aretheygettingthrough.