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club amnesia

"It's good." he said, as he sat down onto the wicker chair. "It's great. I just don't want you to feel like we're fucking you over or anything."

it was clear from his tone of voice that he was trying to pass off this expression as sarcastic; but then again, he could've been genuine as well, you thought to yourself. you were really never the biggest expert in reading people’s authenticity of intent. you decided to stand your ground anyway. there were two choices in front of you. you could either try to match his playfulness level and laughingly let him know that you categorize this situation as yourself getting fucked over but you are okay with it; or as an alternative you can just be assuringly calm and collected to reinforce the validity of the claim.
you go with the second method.
"Well", you say, toughening up ever so slightly on your wicker chair, "I do think I'm getting fucked over."
the first second is priceless. you se…

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öyle. yürekten.

mara

bu cihan benimdir, yakarım alev alev; keyfim bilir

two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl

Arrest this man, he talks in math.

If you don't believe in happiness, you don't believe in happiness, but if you don't believe in happiness, man you must be down.

Tonight's gonna be a good, good night.