We met at the taco truck. She told me her name. I told her I loved her and we laughed ironically. Because it wasn’t the place to be sincere.

At the party, every t-shirt is adorned by acronyms he doesn’t fully understand, and the assault of random letters is too much for him, OMFG.

He was going to punch me. But then he started talking about “the banality of evil” and I thought I was free. Then he punched me. And yawned.

I took their abuse. I imagined a serene place, and I went there. But once they insulted my suit, I was no longer responsible for my actions.

His friends had abandoned him. He was drunk enough to consider the paradox of gravity. He needed some love. But he wanted another drink more.

She stepped on a bug and I preempted her and said, Don’t talk to me about destiny, and then I slipped on dog shit, and she said, I never do.