Watching Requiem for a Dream, eating potato chips and drinking milk.
The world feels strangely hopeless.
You don’t even understand how lovely that sounds to me. All in the world I want right now is to staple sheets to the furniture and snuggle up under a cozy black-cotton fort and watch 500 Days of Summer with you, Beauface, and talk into the night about our dreams and fears. I don’t know if I’ll ever have that kind of happy again. Maybe I’m not meant for such things.
