self love and affirmations are so cringeworthy to me -- that's mean, i know. the perfect depiction of schaudenfraude. but it's so needed.
sometimes this space feels too small with no more balcony you blow smoke directly in my face stain our ceiling fan black give me a contact high while i try to multitask on five things at once, unsuccessfully, ever more unsuccessfully.
i've lost all focus.
i just want a clean bed, soft sheets, a sink free from ***** dishes and every manner of walking and flying insect -- this constant infestation.
i just want clean air, to breathe, bikes that don't break and don't get stolen. shoes that protect my feet from the grime that slickly coats the sidewalks of LA black. shoes that are also pretty.
i don't have any of this. money, money, money i'm always crying over you. i'm sick of your ****, but i'm forever bound to you. and you treat me cruelly taunt me with everything i can't have.
"joke's on you my friend, you better guess again, cause everybody's gotta pay their way"