Michael - 23 - New York
I pretend I'm a writer when I'm not pretending I'm a rockstar. Both of these things may or may not take place in front of the bathroom mirror.
You probably have no idea what my posts are about, and that's the way I like it. True art fails to yield to analysis.
Self-indulgent biography, attempt at humor, pseudo-intellectual Nietzsche quote, etc. etc. etc.
I pretend I'm a writer when I'm not pretending I'm a rockstar. Both of these things may or may not take place in front of the bathroom mirror.
You probably have no idea what my posts are about, and that's the way I like it. True art fails to yield to analysis.
Self-indulgent biography, attempt at humor, pseudo-intellectual Nietzsche quote, etc. etc. etc.
You’re Out of Sight, I’m Out of My Mind
Little Ms. Ironic didn’t mention that life also has a funny way of idling through the chaos like an awkward bystander at a family dinner gone dysfunctional. I’ve always prided myself on seeing through the false visage of sincerity… when the fuck did you become so opaque? You’re a black ink disaster at the glass factory. I can read you like braille.
The next time you make the decision to start another one of your projects, I hope the game board snaps in two and your playmate runs away. Here’s to every line of misguided bullshit I believed as it progressed past your vile lips and into the polluted air between us. I hate you so fucking much.
