expecting a brainchild

we're at the
what's the point
segment.

titus andronicus

- i think i'm having a breakdown.

i thought you were getting laid?

- fuck no.

what about Candy? she was doing roll-ups for you.

- oh sure, she raped me while i was wasted.

meh. one day you'll miss this.

- don't you ever feel like you're running out of time?

look, i know this is all you can think about and you want to talk about it, but chicks don't want to hear this shit. Sure, it's rotten. Don't make a big deal about it.

- asshole.

what are we going to do? we're gonna be late for the funeral.

- just hold on. five minutes, she'll be here.

this is an immature excercise in sensationalism. revenge doesn't exist for people like us.

- i'm waiting. you can leave if you want to.

the old man likes his cannoli

first, unfold the wick

futilitarian

i come back here
all the time
to edit.

nothing smarter than pretty

i want to write
but i can't without you
(you need to be here)

the corner

hey.

hey.

ok, so you were right.

yep.

what do you do that makes you so certain? I've always wondered where passion comes from. sometimes it's so misplaced. and other times, without it... well, you know.

yeah.

...

...

so, 80 bucks?

yeah.