She's Been Many Places With Men Of Many Faces First, They're Off To The Races And She's Laughing Drawing

fresh out the slammer / peter

I hope terrible things happen to them both

A stupid, desperate boy who wallows in self-pity, blaming his friends for leaving him. I know you, [...], though you may not know yourself. You left them. And you'd do it again.

So go, [...] run home, or starve in the Blight. It doesn't matter to me, because you don't matter. Just spare me the misery of your company.

my five stages of grief are all messed up

denial > bargaining > depression > anger > acceptance

i know a body check when i see one

Mary Oliver, from a poem titled "August," featured in White Pine: Poems & Prose Poems

que PORRA de conexão é essa vsf

when emma falls in love + the bolter

the worst part is the wasted time, trust and wine. the deception is something I can deal, but I'm never seeing those again