dont know when i wrote this. but it makes me think of my recurring fantasy of being in a lecture, one of the ones in a big big big room where maybe 20 people are stuck in a row together. in my fantasy i would be in the middle of one of these rows and id put a fountain pen thru my hand.
lyrics
listening to west coast stoner pop punk
and everything about it resonates and im sunk im sunk
but im still breathing air
evening comes and i wanna stab myself in the eyes
fuck my future fuck the revolution i am compost tonight
but im still breathing air
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