i came home and you were on the roof, throwing mud and leaves down at me. the bills are piling up, overflowing off the table and i don't know how to make my money fit around all of them. this whole being an adult thing is not very fun. walking to the bus stop at 5:30 am listening to underwater expeditions on headphones and stumbling. i want to sleep, to eat sandwiches in my pajamas, and take trips east on the spur of the moment.

i want, more than anything, to have a baby but i don't see how it can work. the insides are transmitting signals, the pieces are lining up but i'm afraid i'm going to break everything, that it won't fit together properly, that i can't do it.