The smell of sex always reminds me of summer youth camps growing up.
Seriously delirious, but not at all seriousWhen the war comes, you’ll find me on the front line, with some crayons, coloring outside the lines.
Seriously delirious, but not at all seriousMy printer printed off blank pages. Is my printer out of ink, or do I just have nothing to say?
Seriously delirious, but not at all seriousMy writing looks like it’s ten steps behind my mind, and racing to always catch up.
Seriously delirious, but not at all serious