[10/25/14 12:02 am]
i look around me at a thousand plastic friendships, filled with pizza and selfies and smothered in makeup that covers a multitude of uniquities. a thousand broken hearts, lonely and isolated and sore from pretending for so long. in an age of American paraphernalia from China and of innuendos and inside jokes formulated to cover over importance and voids and all cares, is anything real at all?
i am sick of pizza. ready for real food.
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