The Rebirth of Textual Narcissism
Ask me about inconsequential shit.
Ask me about inconsequential shit.
The advent of the Fall Semester will mean endless hours in a cramped studio pounding out notes out on the piano and clumsily fingering scales. Those fucking minor scales.
To top it off, I actually have to add more classes than what I have now. Gone are the days I binge drink and loaf around with my pals till 0600 hours.
