Why’s the lighting so bad in here?

My life is starting to feel like a bad soap opera, and I’m left with questions like:

Is Pretoria too far?
Is 16 too young?
Am I going to die alone?

The answer, unfortunately, to all of these questions is probably yes.
Meh.

C’est la vie.

These are some little cars made by some foreign African national whose name I don’t know, but they live on my window cill, and I think they’re really awesome.

I’ve analyses in ordered lists,
Of ever girl I’ve ever met,
And book reports inside my head:
All the cover – faces that I’ve read.

Beard. Beard. Beard.