These are everyday scenes of no one special. Just me. They spill over from the piles of full notebooks that are lying around. Maybe they’ll find a place here.
For those of you who spend the time and read information about other people for no reason:
I'm 23, currently going to school for English and a minor in art. That's right, I'm the crazy writer/artist. Wanna know anything else? Feel free to ask.
tried to explain to the seven year old i babysit that being immortal would actually be awful because eventually everyone you know would die and you would be alone and he was like “good”