/// Yeah, I want to smear
my lipstick all the way down my neck.
Call all my best gal pals. Break some
faux pearl necklaces. Learn how to walk
in heels. Forget how to have feelings.
Become the damp light in the
nightclub bathroom. Light doesn’t
have feelings, does it?
(Yeah, I’ve got boy problems.) ///
— Lydia Havens, from “On listening to Boy Problems by Carly Rae Jepsen while alone on a Saturday night,” published in Thread