“IT WASN’T ABOUT THE MOTHERFUCKING LUNCHBOX.”
I mention this because laughing at absurdity is a huge part of how I process and cope with shit.
Also, I really hope that one day some of my myriad old/ex- friends can forgive me for being so fucking insane. Because apparently I have shit to deal with (not exactly my own shit, mind you), albeit in a not-mutually-exclusive-with-glamour way*.
*Look, I might end up passing out in the middle of Peninsula Park in order to sleep off the previous night, but I make it a point to look goddamn fierce while doing so. And yes that’s irresponsible and scary but nothing terrible happened and I AM GOING THROUGH A THING, GODDAMMIT. I am ALLOWED.
P.S. DO NOT BE LIKE ME (I mean you can be like me, but be like me except without the crazy shit. Seriously, crazy shit will do you no favors, except with people who don’t know any better. And that’s not what you want.)
