a little poorly recorded late-night improvised song
catching people looking at you in public is equal not in context or in type of pleasure but in quantity of pleasure to 1/13th of an orgasm
Anonymous asked, "Do you like your own face?"
yeah but I already have my face so you’re gonna have to find a different present
Anonymous asked, "do you have any apprehension over how fleeting life is?"
I wouldn’t call it ‘apprehension’
I try to stay aware of that and use it as an inspiring force as much as I can



