I’M SO SORRY WES I MISSED YOUR BIRTHDAY AAAAAAAAAAA

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I’M SO SORRY WES I MISSED YOUR BIRTHDAY AAAAAAAAAAA
is the second coming of christ going to go like the adam thing but worse. are they actually going to grow fond of the kid. is the kid gonna have to die in a horrible way to really be considered the second coming of christ. are people who are in a position of power gonna murder him (her? them?). is aziraphale gonna get fired because he puts himself, once again, between heaven's will and his human nature. is he going to protect the kid. is he gonna realize people/beings in power are always going to fuck over normal, everyday people whenever they can just to assert their power. is he gonna realize he's, again, on the side of the pieces of shit.
thinkin bout snowchester ctubbo.
i have a poem open in my google docs that ive been staring at for what seems like weeks, trying to talk about the unique misery of august but nothing seems right. i want to say that the afternoons trap me, feel perpetual, as if i spend years in the same spot before the clock ticks to the next second. i want to talk about how everything seems like its melting, as if i live in a dali painting. how the fruit flies are thick and putrid and the fruit is a rotten brown.
talking to my friends is a lifeline but it doesnt help when they chronically respond a week later, too caught up in their own chaos, i wish i was holding you close to my chest and i wish we were talking in real life. we wont see each other very much this year, even less the next, and i wish i lived with you so i could see you as often as i breathe before you move on. august strips me down to bone and i am trying, deeply trying to find a way to twist that loneliness into a proper poem, rather than a midnight garble of miserable words. i miss my friends, though i have said that before. i want to cut my hair, though ive said that before. i want to go home, but i have said that before.
feel like pure shit just wanna die
Going to get my results now and I just