nothingisrealloveis everythingandiknownothing

just saw two 12 year olds walk by, one holding a watermelon bong and the other holding a camp stove. i fucking love seattle

smelling the most rank weed i have ever smelt rn. just some bad bad shit.

they walked by me. cast me suspicious looks. and then set up very obviously in some bushes. love that these middle schoolers think i’m not a narc

i can see them fucking taking rips this is killing me. should i go ask for a hit

asked about the camp stove and one of them said “i don’t even know i am so fucked up”

i was genuinely publicly fucking crying in this park before those kids showed up. now i’ll be fucking over the moon for the rest of the night. they’re like angels. little stoner engineer angels.

nothing could have prepared me for the watermelon bong NOT being a bong that was watermelon themed

THANK YOU DON’T MIND IF I DO

there’s something about becoming older where everything feels finite. summer isn’t endless, love isn’t eternal. you move homes, your favorite boots fall apart, your dog dies. everything feels consuming and beautiful when it is believed to be eternal. now it is all precious. everything. and there is a melancholy that comes with it.

IT’S MARCH

Uh… It’s still May…

It’s august