You die, I die, everyone dies. It is a matter of fact, some die from the inside and some more from the outside, as plants do. As small objects collide when they fall from great mountains or narrow lakes. It is a matter of perspective, I think we may be running out of perspectives. I think everyone knows but no one gives a shit about it. What is it that we’re hiding from? Are we some sort of cosmonauts suffocating in space? We made a mistake and our spaceship ran out of gas. I think I may be in love with you Dustin. I think we are one pair of talented teenagers that will sometime in the future hang their snickers out the window. I think we will make love until we learn how to do it well. I like it when your face is full of orange juice, it makes me feel as if there are some dreamers still, hanging around out in our courtyard dreaming and dreaming about colors that haven’t been invented yet or about swings in which Siamese triplets are dying from pneumonia. I kind of like it when I have cranberry juice all over my feet but you know I’m kinda allergic TO feet so don’t feel bad. Now, grab your feelings and just dump them inside one little box, if you find pink one, thumbs up. Scratch the itch. It really hurt when you broke up with me, when my hand was attached to your arm and you were trying to run away, I understand that your other girl has big legs and a beautiful blonde mustache, but you were rude. I always wanted to kiss someone when the rain was falling and my knees hurt for trying to be smarter and prettier as you were with those pink tights. I don’ t quite know if it is the smell of cigarettes which makes me sick or if it is the actual response of walkers by when I kiss them on the mouth. I think I might be wanting to close the window because the thunderstorm is wetting all of my bunny’s house, I don’t want to be dying now.
