We Are Unusual And Tragic And Alive.

You Know How You Finish A Bag Of Chips And You Hate Yourself? You Know You’ve Done Nothing Good For Yourself. That’s The Same Feeling, And You Know It Is, After Some Digital Binge. You Feel Wasted And Hollow And Diminished.

Once A Year, She Remembers That She Is Insignificant. Then She Forgets Agains, Because More Than She Is Insignificant, She Is Forgetful.

It All Meant Something. Until It Didn't.

They Were So In Love With The World, And So Disappointed In Every Aspect Of It.

Morning Comes Like A Scream Through A Pinhole.