I just wish he could pay more attention to how I see the world rather than how I am seen by the world
Simple joys in life are priceless. Last cigarettes given away, coming at the same time, writing, remembrance from certain smells, making your own paper, good covers better in certain ways than their preceders, and warmth on cold winter days. I am not too far off that I could mistake substance for love. Moderately easy pleasures I find prurient are boiled hot dogs, bonding over unrequited love, clothing made from poor material, selfishness, and self loathe. Equal balance of all energy is sufficient. Maybe if we take the long way home you will find that you’ve never been, never been, somebody to hold onto. So if you’re sick of having the same fight over and over then gather up your ideas and put some spirit in them.