marshmallow icing over a hot cocoa weekend with the tree down, in the pile with last year's carcass there is the thought- how romantic of your insides - to want to plant each holiday in the ground and metaphor the landscape into a future kind with artificial sweetener aiding in the continued inconsistencies of morning rituals and as you brushing your teeth afterwards, thinking about diatoms and how little you really care about environment unless it impacts the size of the jeans you buy or the taste of your afternoon snack. overall, i think you're too hard on yourself. here, have a piece of gum.
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