(okay)
What’s being smart-enough about? Where did we start? What’s being started about? Or is it nothing about being started? Where is my mind? Where is my mind? If they’d see me, would the world understand? Will I ever feel I’m falling in the ground? What the fuck am I asking about? I know you know I'm not perfect.
I just got afraid about when we may become the past. It's okay. It all astounds me anyway.
- I'm not perfect.
- I can't see anything that I don't like about you. Right now I can't.
- But you will. But you will. You know, you will think of things, and I'll get bored with you and feel trapped... because that's what happens with me.
- Okay.
- Okay.
- Okay. Okay.
- I'm not perfect.
- I can't see anything that I don't like about you. Right now I can't.
- But you will. But you will. You know, you will think of things, and I'll get bored with you and feel trapped... because that's what happens with me.
- Okay.
- Okay.
- Okay. Okay.
... meet me at Montauk.
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