i just remembered about a night i had in october of 2010 in argentina which started out at a house party in belgrano and then continued at a bar in the microcentro and then continued when a man (whose name escapes me) offered me a ride home and we stopped for drinks at another bar in palermo and then went to the casino down by the water and then went to his house and it was five in the morning and he had cats and it was not awesome so i told him to drive me to my apartment and he asked for my number and i made up a fake one and then he drove away and i never saw him again.
ps i should go to bed because i have shit to do tomorrow, but it is the shit i have to do tomorrow that is making me want to keep it today for as long as possible. eff.
i’m also listening to the shins’ oh, inverted world in its entirety. what is wrong with me. what is this nostalgia.
“this is an event that i’ve myself have been dying to go to, wether as a racer or just as another face in the crowd. so [name removed], a local bike messenger, i was amped to here that he had done been apart more then one of these races.” these are two sentences extracted from an article of nearly three thousand words that i was sent to edit today. all of the sentences were exactly like those two. an adult, english-speaking person wrote this. just…how.
