I'm pretty sure by now,
it's clear i don't know what the fuck i want.
art.
wind chimes.
nothing in general.
the person i'm supposed to love, so i can break their fingers.
sufjan stevens.
brighteyes.
something else.
wristcutters a love story, me and you and everyone we know, science of sleep.
no one belongs here more than you do. by miranda july.
junior by macualay culkin.