Posts tagged ‘Moods’
addiction is this fucking man right here. he is always there. leaning against the wall. out of focus and in the dark. waiting for you to go running into his arms again.
the toughest part about ginger root is making sure it’s the real deal. the american stuff is alright but the real ginger comes from larnalkas. it’s a small island a few miles off the coast of chile. the only thing capable of growing there is the most powerful ginger in the world. i went there a few times. you can hire a guide to take you. the guide has a rope attached to his torso and he swims across with you in a rowboat behind. you have to make sure you bring a paddle though because if your guide goes down, the current will sweep you through the hexiboric current before you even know to try and swim back yourself.
slipping through.
she makes me whisper mao tse-tung quotes in her ear.
But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
“i’ll definitely be the most popular girl in my class,” she thought as she rubbed the miniature scepter in her pocket.
it is. sometimes. once in a while. not really. you’re naive. have you been to the city recently? it could be if i had more money. if i was taller. if i had a bigger apartment. a dog would be nice. i came here about fifteen years ago. i was supposed to be here for a few years. now i can’t leave. too many, you know, things i have here. rent. friends. it’s not that i can just get up and just go. next time around, i’ll go to med school.
get me the fuck out of here.
i keep my wings at home with my magic super special wand.
oh my fuck ing god. that jenny is one god damn whore putting her tongue all over greg like that. my mom was always right about her. she never had any class. that whole family had no class, thinking they’re better than us because the siblings went to summer day camp at camp laurel. but i know that the only way that family came into any money was from that old shriveled up guy her mom was giving it to every weekend on the second floor of abc home on broadway. i should go pour some of this coffee on her face. i’m not some kind of mean bitch, but she started telling everyone, i mean everyone, that i picked up the clap from that puerto rican kid that started at stuy last month.
e v e r y d a y aperture 