Post spongy wrappings words check please up across over through horizontal blowing air back towards it up the ramp and I peer back and it’s fogged.
I’m in it. The mountains him too much. My food consumption and that all too true photo strained smile more than I wish it to be. Marathon it my mind’s in the round. Only right I’d be doing the same in scarf. No interest they’re sweet I guess mouths open and not mine.
Take me back not there here.
Carred it to the next loudness. Luck of the four we got it. Weren’t we just good enough for a diversity gram? Questions and back and forth and I get above it a little.
Bus it almost tears but I stare ceiling-ward and not with strangers. Line it and wait. Flash trapezoidal fixtures consciousness he what a glossy word line.
Mom and that’s it melancholia. Takes me back to Clara. brief So Monday I took a picture of it should I sent it? Need to open my umbrella & put it post birthday. I think I just can’t stand the self in it.