I sit here. As I sit here I’m thinking. I’m thinking, “I hope my Internet connection doesn’t cut out,” and, “I wish this download would finish sooner,” and, “I wish I had some barbecue chips.”
I sit here. As I sit here I’m surfing. I’m stumbling into everyone else’s ‘I miss you!’ s and their ‘I can’t wait to see you!’ s and their ‘Hey, I read your blog the other day...’ s.
I sit here. I find your blog. I browse it until I find whatever they mentioned. It’s not what I thought it would be so I take it back out of context and add it to my list of disjointed romanticisms. I wish I had some barbecue chips.
I sit here. As I sit here I’m...
I’m crying.
I wish I had some barbecue chips.
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Y'know, I was crying the other day, only it was because I wanted some sour cream & onion chips.
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