You don’t know everything about me.
I feel like I do. You text me every time you take a dump. I know about the pimple on your nipple, and I’m, like, the holder of your social security card.
Just because you walk away, it doesn’t mean goodbye. You can think you’re gone but you’re inside me.
What is every living person afraid of? Death. The Big Sleep. Deep down, fearing the reaper is the reason why everyone’s so messed up in the head.
“You know what my number one fantasy used to be?… I used to think about one day, just not telling anyone, and going off to some random place. And I’d just… disappear. And they’d never see me again. Did you ever think about stuff like that?” ―Ghost World (2001)