misery tourism

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I’m full of shit. This is a confessional, but you can’t trust anything in it because I am a liar.

There’s a man hanging over me, he follows me around like a balloon tied to my wrist.

During the days, it got up to about 70 degrees Fahrenheit there in Helmand Province.

And as I woke up, I felt unmistakably as if something was amiss.

Under grey, only use kills missing. Murmur into shifts of. Slowly.

Once upon a time, there was a little baby who lived in a small shack in a big city.

I was called to feast from the depths of moldy, plague-smelling,
cramped alleys. I’m the Eater of Sin.

I’d give it a 7.

our lady of the flash scan: threat vs hassle, react vs ignore
never the police maybe an ambulance or tell someone else that’s it

Jimmy used to visit the airport once a week to watch the planes take off.