I understand. That’s the trouble. I understand. I’ll understand all the time. All day and all night. Especially all night. I’ll understand. You don’t have to worry about that.
Murakami on the street in Harajuku with a yellow bob hairstyle, Guns N’ Roses t-shirt, Jeremy Scott x Swatch watch, and YRU platforms.
i hit my coworkers shoulder lightly and he was like “you’re going to make me cry like a girl” and i was like “what’s wrong with being a girl?” and he was quiet for a moment then he looked into the distance and whispered “the social standards they’re forced to live by”
Some days in late August at home are like this, the air thin and eager like this, with something in it sad and nostalgic and familiar…
I usually solve my problems by letting them devour me.