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i have none of the following things: self-respect, shame, or any sense of a timeline. 2600 words, lyrics from sufjan stevens, other help from greta. if you listen to futile devices on repeat you will either enjoy this more or hate me more.

( when you crochet i feel mesmerized and proud )

i don't even care anymore, you guys. blame greta and mel. 1900 words of nonsense, all poetry borrowed from richard siken for my own shameless purposes, everything else is made up, and i clearly didn't even bother to do research into how the x factor works.
( tonight you're thinking of cities under crowns )