The Rebirth of Textual Narcissism
Ask me about inconsequential shit.
Ask me about inconsequential shit.
All of my fondest childhood memories involve eating delicious things my mother made me.
Today she has asked me to prepare dinner every night until I move to San Francisco. I know she has asked me to do this, not because she wanted to skip out of a chore, but because I know she wants to taste my food before I am gone… before she is gone… just in case there will be no other opportunities in the future to do this.
I want her fondest memory of me to be eating delicious things I make her.
