angst and angles.
Oh, so that’s how it is? You’re going to just let the evident become the inevitable? NONSENSE. It doesn’t matter how many times I fluff your feathers or cushion your fall; you always crush me.
Perspectives account for personalities. I think you see life as a linear line where time becomes your selfish crutch, an excuse to sleep a little longer and live a little less.
It’s reassuring (at the very least) that I can get out of this one. It just frustrates me that you make my escape that much more difficult.
angst and anger, these are my angles.
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