I did you a chapbook! It will not solve any of your problems.
It was like walking on freshly fallen snow
EDIBLE TOO MAYBE
A little friendstruation, for Friendnesday
Ever since you moved away my period is all fucked up;
I thought I’d won Most Improved In Cunt-Punctuality but it was only a
by-proxy bonus of being your roommate; now you’re 542
kilometres from here and my insides have time-travelled to
twelve years old, that false-start state from before we met
as if trying to adapt to the distance (I know that nothing changed
and really I suffer no hack theories my uterus has shit to say
concerning friendship; but immaculate absence is seldom seen
so plainly as months of spotless underwear (as rarity made regular, and
regular made rare))
EVERY DAY is YOUR DAY at SOLITUDE SUMMERCAMP
one day we’ll have the most immaculate cyborg innards
the fatal flaw!!!
make do
Leatherface listens to sad old songs about the one that got away on his iPod
spasmodic emissions of toxic blood vomit (the toxic blood vomit is made of metaphors)
Preliminary sketch thing. Nothing quite like learning you wrote “metaphysical bushwhack” in your sketchbook, crossed it out and then forgot about it
it all ended in tears and snotblood
I drew this ten thousand years ago and never put it on here because right around then every elderly person to whom I’m related was all HI SWEETIE I LIKE YOUR TUMBLE BLOG and I was all no good can come of this. But surely they’ve all forgotten about the internet by now. Breasts breasts breasts
P.S. Hi Mom
in all fairness I admit it would be a dull fucking book
