my house smelled like my old preschool this morning.

i read that thing you sent me, well, one of those things, a link chosen at random. it was some lady going on about how now she's all old and has nothing to worry about like a period or being pretty, and now she appreciates small things. A LOT. i considered this and she is an asshole. put on a sweater and drink tea to the view. i used to love the small things, waking up on sunny sundays and the sound of cars driving atop rained on streets, but now i dont give a shit. i want explosions and bazookas, not rainbows and pink hand revolvers. fuck cat naps and poems, give me bad asses and a rad painting now and then, you know, to break up the monotony of danger. -emily