dears;

dear andrew bird, i wish it was physically possible to make out with someone’s diction. because i’d make out with yours. i don’t know what it is, but no one has ever made the words “nomenclature”and  “imitosis” so gosh darn dreamy.

dear nearly every girl i went to elementary school with, stop getting pregnant. one, i’d love to be able to sign on to facebook and be saved from seeing your unborn fetus. you know, the simple things. and two, it kind of freaks me out.

dear wanderlust, you need to chill out. like, really. you make me nervous to take a train to any stop near where it would be feasible to get to the airport on payday. i wish i was joking.

dear finals, i am going to dominate you. just wanted to let you know.

dear future man friend, just a quick note: i like a man who wears quirky socks. checkered, argyle, polka dotted, it doesn’t matter; it immediately sends me to swoon-city, population: 1.

dear “how to make an apple pie and see the world”, can i live inside of you?

dear man that sat next to me at the china town dumpling house, why yes, i would love to have one of your scallion cake-things. so kind of you to ask.

dear readers, i cannot believe there are 94 of you (that i know of/can count!) i never would have guessed i would have so many strangers read my rambles. from writing literary raps to just bonding with squirrels, i thank you for sticking around.

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