my parachute’s broken. an alternative is leaning over your twirly chair and spinning weeesh. my stomachs not happy about that though. seriously serious time now. i’m always serious. and wishing i lived in the 60’s. don’t they say you can wish for stuff when the time consists of the same number? that’s what i think about at 5:55
what colour’s your parachute?
coincidence is so not like watching kim’s car arrive right when i leave school. it’s like reading nine stories and madame bovary at the same time and having them make references to each other