what do you know, it felt good

i observed may day eve with only half as much debauchery as it deserves; there was drinking and loud music and dancing (well, head-bobbing) but no sex in the fields and no fires. which is best, considering.
i ended up selling out bobby‘s tshirts, except the one small men’s that was left, which he gave me in exchange for accidentally running his merch table for him. he called me “princess” and told me about his wife and his baby, isabella. they call her “belly bare,” and he sticks out his stomach and rubs it when he says her name.
overdramatization in my last post; i don’t want to Be A Writer, but i want to write things i don’t hate. i don’t know what that would look like, though. i’ve never done it.

(song: “reno,” chuckanut drive)