go on, gemma.

do not litter your question marks.
it'll only result in messy conversation,
a filthy environment to raise your children.
by hana lee & a memory

i've stopped fussing because i realize, and i mean fully and completely understand that, everyone is messed up really. their insides are just as triple-quadruple knotted. their surroundings are just as slippery, just as temporary. but you don't see them crying about it now, doyuh?

so then, look. let's make a promise. let's focus on the now. let's not think about what the future's gonna be like, 'cause it looks too frighteningly dreary from here. the unknown and all. don't it?

oh God, no. i imagine that's the only place i'll be perfectly fine. you see, you don't know if you'll make a mistake tomorrow, until it becomes today or yesterday, in which case it isn't the future anymore. it's just the present and (blink) the past, which is already ridden and overflowing with your own mistakes. and man, are they savage. they are cruel beyond measure. i mean, these mistakes, they don't care about feelings at all. am i making any sense to you here?

not really, no. but then again, do you ever?











hotel cafe tonight with dan. i'mpraying for music like fingers running through hair. really! oh, reevesy better deliver. anything to help me forget about rainy weather. and the flu. pout, and more pout. i'll tell you something funny though. i gave henry a tiny piece of broccoli last night and she cannnNOT stop leaking death gas. she is so miserable right now, ha-ha-ha!
and how awkward is 1:52 in that trailer?