here's to you. sip your wine, drink your beer. get a little tipsy even. like how the scenery keeps moving while you look down at your shoes. and it feels damned good when you give up a little bit of the caring. when you roll your eyes at the medusa maniac rearing her fucken snake head. none of this matters. nothing. remember that when you begin to dwell a little too damned much on the ratracers clawing their way to the top. enjoy being down on the ground, watch the grass blade push through the spring ready earth. have that slice of pizza, eat that candy bar, splurge for the toblerone...but get your ass to the gym.

"he won't love you, like i love you." none of them ever really could.