Ignorance is love and I need that shit.
It’s never easy, is it? I just think too fucking much all the fucking time. All I want is a 40 in one hand and a joint in the other. I want to retreat into a cocoon of covers and candles and introspective thoughts. Paint the room with sounds and smoke. Music and musings. Fill my mind with words and wonders. And let disappear the worries.
But life never leaves us alone, does it?