Don't fucking trip. Everyone bums everyone out anyway.
My car is probably the safest place for me. Ironic because I most often dream of crashing it or driving off a bridge. I need wine, it's one-fifteen in the morning, and this is deafening. I'll try not to think about what day it is or how the weather is or why I ended up here. I'll just think about the drag queens, and the spider and the wasp that it trapped, and how I want to blast the fan on me till I melt to the middle of the next day.
