i think we would look nice together. like a fucking neat pair of white air max nikes and funky socks with lemons and licorice on them.

ek onthou hoe die sigarette opgehoop het onder houttafels en hoe jy saggies gesê het dat jy dit wil probeer. die rook van ons twee se stompies het gedans op die klankgolwe van note en draai soos ñ romp in kringe op die krans van die oggend son se rand. die wind se asem steel die rook uit jou mond en waai dit weg saam die as en lus, maar so sit ons gedeurig die pot mis.

that is the beauty of words, you can do anything with them, words for me, are not words for you. they're meanings differs form my point of view to your point of view.

taking bathroom selfies exposing some nakedness and post them on some statuses and stories - with way to much likes - and tomorrow they are on google earth motherfuckers.