Number 3 in an endless series of life transcriptions. These are bits and pieces, placed in chunks because of different conversations that have happened, but aren’t in any particular order. Torrin, Max, Robert, Olivia, Cesar, my thoughts (afterward) are both black and grey.
That’s a shit load of atmospheric distortion. Actually, that’s just my vision. Also, just turn your body 180 and then follow the line of the lights on the roof. Oh shit, that’s fucked.
Enters fugue state. The room where the memes never end. That’s every room in our lives. Sosa’s bedroom. Yes, more specifically.
British people get so upset if you say you’re from America. Do they really? The state itself is bigger than the whole UK. Is it really? The summers would be 110 degrees, that’s not nice weather. Is that really? Oh yeah, you’re used to celsius, huh? Are you really? It’s hot as hell. That, I agree with. With juicy bits. Orange juice-y bits. And then sweaters are jumpers. You can jump in shirts too. Are shirts also jumpers? Oh my gosh, I love your pants. Trousers, trousers, I love your trousers. Why thank you, they’re new. K, come out, I’m not wearing any pants. Why thank you, that’s not new.
Ass prolapses out of left eye socket. No. My ass prolapses out of YOUR left eye socket. Please no. My ass prolapses out of your mouth. Seriously though. Okay, please don’t. Thanks.
It’s all fun and games until people start dying. Then it’s art. Life imitates art, art imitates life. Death imitates art, art imitates death. I was honestly just playing a fucked up derivation of pinball on my phone. As if pinball to begin with isn’t fucked up? That depends on how into indiscernible lyrics about decapitating children you are. Oh, you don’t know me well enough. I have one of those smiles where the only emotion it cannot express well is ‘happiness’. That’s problematic. Don’t have a laundry bitch, because that’s creepy. Laundry to begin with is creepy. Necessary, but creepy. My mom had to start hiding the matches. (bows head)
Easier said than done, but still doable. I should go home and sloop, but I know if I go home, I won’t sloop. I should sloop too. This is difficult.
C Ninja bombs got me out of hundreds of jams as a teenager. Ninja bombs got in INTO tons of jams as a teenager. Tables turned, eh? C #excusemewhileIdielaughing #excusemewhileItypeoutanincrediblylongandindiscernible
hashtagforyourNOTenjoymentbecausewhywouldyouenjoysomethinglikethis?
C I can’t make promises as to what I am and am not, because the jury is still out on that. Can I be on the panel? C I won’t report you as a pyro if you promise to immortalize my struggle against the cricket. Ouch. C I’m using a bookcase of 100 year old treatise as a raft. Good luck with that.
SABMANSHAR 