I sigh at my empty account and wonder how long a bio can be. I finish a small, bitter macchiato while reverse image searching a painting that a friend had posted. It’s not warm enough here sit in the shade, I thought. An old voice yells hello! and I look up hopefully. ‘Is it too cold to eat outside?’ an eager child asks. I glance at the predictive text options. ‘The New Yorker has been in a slump since last summer’. Surprisingly insightful. I finally notice the small red number in the bottom right corner.
holy shit youre still active? thats ace as fk
🪰🥚😋✨🦩☑️😍☝️👌🚨💪😭🗝️✏️❤️🫡😛🫶👣🦶😂🍰💖🐚🌲💕😮💨🎊🎈🎁
Neil Young: Only Love Can Break Your Heart

