In the past few years, it felt like I’ve been jumping from a frying pan into the fire that’s been on an infinite meta-loop. Eventually, I hope I learn to say “fuck this shit up,” just sit still for awhile, and smoke that joint ala that ending in that-movie-that-must-not-be-named-because-spoilers-are-the-ultimate-no-no-for-this-movie.

Before that happens, I guess the apathy of this soup will do for awhile.

Plus, a bit of nostalgia that can pass for passion.

And, well, just something pretty.


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