111557316362005871

How are you not going to fall for someone who wants to interview you? Now Caroline is all I can think about. And in the daydreams I imagine every detail, the entire story of our future relationship, until suddenly I realize that there’s nothing left to actually, like, happen. I’ve done it all, lived through it all in my head. I know the whole plot, the ending, and the good parts. Now I’d have to watch it all over again in real time, and where’s the fun in that? And fucking–when is it all going to stop? Am I going to jump from rock to rock for the rest of my life until there aren’t any rocks left? Am I going to bolt every time I get itchy feet? Because I get them about once a quarter, along with the store’s tax bill. I’ve been thinking with my guts since I was fourteen years old and, frankly speaking, I’ve come to the conclusion that my guts have shit for brains. You know what’s wrong with Laura, what my problem is? What’s wrong with Laura is that I’ll never see her for the first or second or third time. That’s all. Fuck it. I’ll probably mail the tape. Probably.

reflect on it, dil.

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