this pretty much sums up my weekend. a lot of sunshine in the park. then late night homemade fried chicken, mustard greens, corn bread, and mac n' cheese.

this quote too "it's official, I'm carrying around shit in my bag..."

I slept horribly last night. I kept dreaming that my brother was 11 years old. Rhythm Gymnastics remind me of the Cuban Missile Crises/ Soviet Block. twee overuse of the word "vagina," I agree. I have no poetry to submit. in the future everyone will "sparks outrage." I forgot to curate my bed this morning.