“Nobody’s going to want to sit on high-speed rail for fifteen hours to get from New York City to LA.”
Me. I will sit on high-speed rail for fifteen hours. I’ll sit on it for days. I’ll write and read and nap and eat and then do it all over again. I’ll stare out the windows and see America from ground level and not have to drive. I’ll see the Rockies and the deserts and cornfields and the Mississippi River and your house and yours and yours too. I’ll make up stories in my head about the small towns I see as we go along. I’ll see the states I’ve yet to see because driving or flying there is a fucking slog and expensive to boot. I’ll enjoy the ride as much as the destination. And then I’ll do it all over again to come the fuck home.
everyone hate my loquacious swag. its always "why did you make this sentence so long" and "why do you use so many commas and em dashes" and never "how did you come up with that run on sentence" or "writing that run on sentence looked fun"
a gentle fact about this world is that people will want to help you. a cruel fact about it is that you do have to put on your big boy pants and open their contact on your phone and say some human words to ask them for it
took some creative liberties with the structure of it all otherwise it would've been 20 pages long... love u tazmuir and all your words but i removed some for my sake... enjoy...
there are so many things on gods green earth that are not platonic but are also not romantic. the erotic, the familial, the unconditional, weird codependency, weird codependency (hatred edition), etc. let us all broaden our horizons