POSTED AT 01:53 PM
I am a product.
A robot manufactured in the best factory, fully automated to kiss ass, wipe ass and bullshit my way into greener pastures.
I have the latest software, the most advanced features, all the cogs oiled and whirring, ready to do the job I was made to do.
All I need now is the seal of approval, which I hope to get on the first and second of June.
There is no time to reasses and troubleshoot the mechanisms.
No time for a test run.
No time to unplug and unwind.
Just box me up and send me off anywhere you want, I don't (have a) mind.
Dollars. Snow. Blonde hair and blue eyes and nasal twangs. Apple trees and Lady Liberty.
That's all we really want in the end, isn't it?
(Haven't been this emo in a while. Woo, blog entry, woo.)





