yikes

What if, when you die, you find yourself in an alien body, holding a bong, surrounded by a bunch of aliens asking you “how was it”?

Snife (snake knife)

I must not be enraged by the man playing music out loud on the bus. Getting mad at the guy absolutely blowing my ear drums out through his Bluetooth speaker is the mind-killer. Going full apeshit on public transit at nine in the morning because some inconsiderate fuckwad is blasting Top 40 hits at full volume is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my frustration. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. Where the absolute blood-boiling fury has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.

wheres seasons greasons

its that time of year again

It doesn’t have to be

its not optional

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

goose