(Source: sugarless-boi, via vagroaches)
(Source: sugarless-boi, via vagroaches)
the summer of our discontent
Tree House by B e t h on Flickr.
Most of my memory is blacked out from that point on, with short bursts. I remember trying to light a paintbrush on fire thinking it was really a cigarette, as well as painting my teeth black.
I didn’t sleep at all that night, and was found covered in paint, screaming in the bedroom hallway for a telephone call to someone named Shawn at 6:00am.
what should I wear to meet John Waters tomorrow?
I’m thinking I’m gonna suit up, for sure.