Its perfect weather for sitting in my broken car with the windows down, heat blasting on my feet, and being somewhere I probably shouldn’t be. Thanks for the company, kamel.
Feeling like a passenger in the car that is my life, and the driver is riding everyone’s ass.
I am a weekender; a cocaine cowboy of sorts. I am volatile. Mainly a pushover. I hope to let go one day.
My thoughts sound like a chariot record.