i’ve known a lot about how my life is supposed to end for many years. where it happens, when, why i never ran, how i overcome the very popular but still desperately unspoken desire for me to be wrong in some way, even though it’s not difficult to project an estimate of what it will be like on that day
no one wants me to carry on with the hair i get it. but there’s a real me under there and he knew it was right from the beginning
but what she will be like is still very hard to anticipate and speculate or try and say
it fucks you off doesn’t it. but you can’t even say why
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