It's Carly's Birthday

So what if I am back home, jerkos? You don't care. Neither do I. Stop pretending. Stop crying. Stop stop stop. Pretending!

Take a vitamin? Ok, sure!

Write a film paper? (thoughtfully) Pass.

How's the flask? Emptier than it's been in a while. I don't own alcohol. That's fine. That's FINE.
It's just that I happen to feel relieved when I drink. That's not bad, right? Then ha-ha I was only kidding

probably.


Tonight we had rehearsal that lasted four hours and forty-five minutes. Tomorrow I don't feel like doing anything. All I want to do is watch eternal sunshine over and over.

AND I JUST MIGHT. Right after I take this vitamin and don't write this paper and stare longingly at a flask with nothing inside but a tiny white moth that always flies out of empty things, like wallets for instance.

I just fell asleep. So did you. Don't pretend that we didn't. I won't pretend, either.