Giant SUV pollution makes beautiful sunsets.
| : | : | : | : | : | : | : | : | : | : | : | . . . . . . . . . . How about someone I can hang with. Someone who doesn't continuously need me for their entire mental and emotional stability, someone who is passionate about something, anything. Love something and be willing to fight for it, die for it, hate something else and be willing to do the same. It doesn't have to be my fight, nor mine yours, so long as you have one. Come up with something on your own that will blow my mind. Say something interesting, ask me a question I don't know the answer to, make me think about something, talk to me about the world. . . better yet, come see it with me.
I like everything you like. I don't like the movies you don't like. See, we have much in common!
mine's flat, doesn't get a signal, and is all too often used as a nightlight.
I have an interesting theory on books, and like it or not, here it is. I hate libraries, primarily because they are too publicly sterile. I read a book, and I have a relationship with it. You fall in love, hate it, mindfuck it, and it you, etc. etc. Page thirty seven and I begin to bond, and throwing that away to some fucking stranger just seems publicly temporary, devaluing our relationship. So I buy books. All kinds. Some I've never heard of, some I'll never read, and some I've read a few times over only to once again purchase another copy when my original is gifted away. Strange, no? But it's who I am.
In the good old days, children like you were left to perish on windswept crags!