life rly isn’t that crazy
you’re just getting too many notifications
Before the wisdom is dropped, it should be said, this does not apply to every person who hates on el Valle. There is a distinct difference between folks who would benefit from moving away from their hometown and those who are being adressed in this post. Most of y’all should be able…
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The last trip of my summer is to a prison in Refugio, TX.
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One of my earliest memories as a young boy took place on Halloween in 1990. I was sitting on a wooden floor and watching my older, twelve year old cousin smear thick globs of white and red paint all across his face. When he finished, he turned around, and grinned.
"Do I look like the Joker?"
I laughed at him and told him he needed more makeup because I could see his dark skin through the paint. I remember how his lips frowned. I saw them bend flat through the red crescent smile blotched over his mouth. I didn’t mean to hurt him, and I know I grew a bit scared because he wasn’t afraid to push his younger, smaller cousins around. But he didn’t do anything. Maybe it was because he liked me, or maybe it was because my mom and dad bought him the cheap purple Joker suit he was so ready to wear. I don’t know what was going through his head, but I do remember how he looked in the end, wearing the baggy, purple suit, green hair, white makeup. He looked so cool.
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Or white bread
Or just people
My chest is hurting because I’m making dead people mingle on paper.