Nothing.

i feel like i bumped into my 80s jock soulmate in the kitchen and our eyes lock in slow-mo while the high school party in the basement rages on showing no sign of ending badly

he taps

if i was a cryptid i’d just be a guy in a multiple-floor office building who gets on the elevator with everyone else, but i’d never get off on any floors. people would only see me enter, never leave. occasionally i will ask abstract and paradoxical questions that makes people question reality. when they try to describe the “weird guy in the elevator this morning” they can’t seem to remember what I look like. my face is blurry on all the security footage.

i think what’s wrong with me is that i don’t live secluded in a hut in the woods. i don’t bang enough rocks against enough things. i just haven’t forged any swords

for my final project i will be disappearing into the mountains

‘are you decent?’  not morally, but im wearing pants, if thats what youre asking