Giving zero fucks about bookstore etiquette @cityofrachels
so uh, I’m at Zach’s house.
Creepin’ real hard-like
There is a secret bond between slowness and memory, between speed and forgetting. Consider this utterly commonplace situation: a man is walking down the street. At a certain moment, he tries to recall something, but the recollection escapes him. Automatically he slows down. Meanwhile, a person who wants to forget a disagreeable
incident he has just lived through starts unconsciously to speed up his pace, as if he were trying to distance himself from a thing still too close to him in time.
In existential mathematics, that experience takes the form of two basic equations: the degree of slowness is directly proportion to the intensity of memory; the degree of speed is directly proportional to the intensity of forgetting.
It’s the cops are coming in type of sobering up
It’s a girl who’ll never learn that I could not give a fuck
My friends are happy
I am happy
I have learned to adapt
A darker kind of humor I can still hear them laugh
And there’s beer, in coffee mugs
Come on, baby, calm me down
You’re the only one who knows how
Please fall asleep so I can take pictures of you and hang them in my room
so when I wake up feel like yeah everything’s alright
You are still here, you are still happy, you are still smiling and laughing
you are still the only thing and everything I need in my life