In my skin-tight jeans.
It feels like there is a sordid lack of things to say or reflect upon as of late. I guess just because more of the same just keeps on happening, over and over, again, repeat, and I'm not really sure how I feel about that.
Wait, yes I do. I feel impatient. I am a very impatient person. If someone were to say I was a patient person, I would have to call them a liar. Or realize that they don't know me very well.
And that maybe they don't even want to.
Maybe they do, though.
They're elusive like that.
"It should be kept on the down-low. Like, in Australia probably."
It's kind of like our own inside joke,
But it's not funny.
I love you.
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