I feel like I’m selling people cancer when I sell cigarettes, taking their money and their hopes/dreams when I sell them lottery tickets, and aiding in the ripping apart of mother nature every time I authorize a pump.
Maybe the sleep deprivation is just getting to me.
A thought aided by this?
A certain someone and I… I think maybe we had what we had (have?) because we’re both easy to fall in love with.
I still hope it’s real. But Reality has been having a way of beating me upside the head recently.
With heavy, blunt objects.
Madison came over yesterday. Seamus is asleep on the couch. And I get to sleep now.