If I could bottle up the sound of your laugh I would show up to work wasted and hungover. Or perhaps I wouldn't show up at all. They'd find me in the hospital bed with IVs in my arms because I would refuse to drink water. The doctors would be screaming at me, but I wouldn't mind them one bit because they don't have the privilege of having even the smallest taste, if they did I'm certain they would understand. If I ever got out of that hospital I would pour some into my conditioner so whenever I wash my hair that sound can echo off the walls and dance around my head like a halo of music and ****** and I'd rub the sound into my skin so it's scent could last longer. I would embed it into the carpets, the curtain, even the sheets. I would mix it with my paints and I would sell a million paintings. Not because of any talent or being revolutionary, but simply because of that sound.
Feb 5
Feb 5, 2026 at 9:52 AM UTC
If I could bottle up the sound of your laugh I would show up to work wasted and hungover. Or perhaps I wouldn't show up at all. They'd find me in the hospital bed with IVs in my arms because I would refuse to drink water. The doctors would be screaming at me, but I wouldn't mind them one bit because they don't have the privilege of having even the smallest taste, if they did I'm certain they would understand. If I ever got out of that hospital I would pour some into my conditioner so whenever I wash my hair that sound can echo off the walls and dance around my head like a halo of music and ****** and I'd rub the sound into my skin so it's scent could last longer. I would embed it into the carpets, the curtain, even the sheets. I would mix it with my paints and I would sell a million paintings. Not because of any talent or being revolutionary, but simply because of that sound.
