A Collection of Spectacles

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we are going to move forward or stop existing. there’s no other way.

i can’t take anything else. 

i saw a clip from this little known movie the other day. two men were in a restaurant. they had been lovers once. one was a poet, the other lived off of being pretty. the pretty one said, “do you love me?” the poet nodded yes. “then put your hand on the table face up.” he took out a blade and made it dance on the poet’s palm. all the poet did was close his eyes and wince, waiting. the pretty one stopped and kissed the open palm. he never planned on slicing the poet open. he just wanted to know where he stood. 

(i’m waiting i’m waiting i’m waiting i’m waiting)

it sucks.

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