In the past few years, it felt like I’ve been jumping from a frying pan into the fire that’s been on an infinite meta-loop. Eventually, I hope I learn to say “fuck this shit up,” just sit still for awhile, and smoke that joint ala that ending in that-movie-that-must-not-be-named-because-spoilers-are-the-ultimate-no-no-for-this-movie.
Before that happens, I guess the apathy of this soup will do for awhile.
Plus, a bit of nostalgia that can pass for passion.
And, well, just something pretty.