I don't know what to say. It's too hot to think, or to even tell the truth all the time. It's like why bother getting involved in anything this week when it is just so much effort and you could blow up fireworks in the drive-thru in your hometown anyways.

Maybe when school starts and it gets cold I won't think so much and so hard.
I'll go running.
I won't cut my hair.
All the people will keep holding hands, and they won't remember about real love and how it finds you under the blacklight. They won't remember about how it happens in between cigarettes and iPhones and the endless winter you thought you'd forgotten about.

Rich shots of espresso.

We'll get back to the way things worked.