i should write something, and i've been meaning to. it's just that my face is longing for my pillow, and i for the comfortable [and fairly ugly] plaid shorts i sleep in. and i'm too selfish to not give in, and i'm too much of a punk to not leave this at this.
"then i pinched my arm,
remembered how much you hate me,
remembered the fact
i can't see what you need.." -s.t.d.
the beauty that you give this place..