denial in a trial by fire

it seems lately, every argument i have with someone relevent in my life is just a carbon version of itself, faxed and copied and filed away for the next week. do we ever hear ourselves? i feel like i’m breathing scripts and reciting lines to situations that for most of the time, i like to carelessly forget about.

AND goddamnit, if i don’t want to makeout, what makes you think i want to fuck?

over&out.