stormy weather

For once, I want to live in cliches. Luxuriate in their tackiness. Believe in the authenticity of the majority. Reblog pictures of the horizon, with sentimental drivel superimposed in capital letters, on Tumblr. (Those that actually incite laughter when I see another reblogging it) Oh, bleed me dry of bitterness. It gets tiring to be at war with everything, or things that are supposed to be effortless and commonplace. The cascade of hours is gnawing at me. Twenty is a tosser.

( the last of nineteen )