I’m dying of laughter.

Tell me everything.

I showered, I’m over the moon, I wanna go back to bed, I look like a space being. I’m a hot mess.

But you’re my hot mess.

She just left. It was surreal, like I just saw a cryptid– more organic flesh than crystal and stone. It may be a person’s name but “light mountain” is still a cool concept like how every universe we create has to have sheep.

What the hell are we doing? I don’t know. It’s amazing how one letter changes meaning so much. If all else fails we can still afford a tiny house, a caravan of broke-ass millennials laughing about sheep.

We’re geniuses. We could take over the world.

I’ll buy your plane ticket tomorrow.

rlb 4.18.17

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