i’ve been reading my book, it just arrived in the mail, marketable depression, not the one i’m working on now, and i keep thinking wow i’m smart or this makes me look smart which is not how i felt half a year ago or even a whole year ago, over time my perception has changed about it and that’s nice, i think. mostly, my memory is just destroyed it’s like i didn’t even write that book and it’s not even about me.
i found what i want fil to get me for xmas, it’s a jacket. originally i wanted wallabies but this jacket is pretty amazing i’ll just buy the shoes myself.
