Womp

We both know that nothing matters. But we both know we won’t end our life. 

Why should we be wrapped around the fact that nothing matters to the point of being unhappy, if you’re not going to kill yourself. 

If you run into someone who you know gets it and you; know nothing matters and be miserable together. 

Bet you’d be less miserable. 

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I wouldn’t have any thrill in my life if it weren’t from the subconscious satisfaction I get from longing for the inconvenient. 

I wouldn’t have it any other way. I guess?

You’ve got it all figured out. 

The government. How they suck you dry and defeat you.

It’s charming how you’ve escaped that. And how wise you’ve become since. 

We are equally yoked. We both know that nothing matters at all. 

The difference is, though we both wish to be dead and have acknowledged that we wouldn’t do it to ourselves..

I realize that human nature is not worth fighting.

 You can escape the world for the most part.

You can escape petty expectations of people and the feeling of never being enough. 

You can’t escape loneliness and the desire to have another mind to relate to 

and let go of everything else with. 

I know you’ll be gone again soon. I don’t mind that. It actually makes me want you more. 

But for some reason, though you know that nothing matters, you are refraining. 

My kind of lovin

If I could text you I would ask you so much. And you’re gone again. I cling to these types of unconventional relationships. I guess they’re what entertains me.

The closest I’ve felt to romantically loving anyone truly has been through instant connections and short moments together. I guess it’s because when you know them longer you find reasons not to love them.

So it’s the strongest this way.

Just miss me.

I’ll miss you. I miss others. I’ll love others. But I’ll always miss you. And love you, because I haven’t been given a reason not to.

Darlin I’m drunk

Everything Ive loved has turn to stone so pack your bags and come back home.

I’m wasted. You can taste it. Don’t look at me that way.

Cause I’ll be hanging from a rope. I will haunt you, like, a ghost.

If my man was a fire he’d burn out before I wake and be replaced with pints of whiskey, cigarettes and outer space.

And don’t fucking move or everything you thought you had will go to shit.

We have a lot. Don’t you ever, forget that.