my car got broken into
they smashed my window and took my backpack, which i don't think had anything valuable in it. just a notebook that -- FUCK i didn't type up the poem i wrote last night
this is the price i pay for letting my friend talk me into going to star wars burlesque
i am like bike cuck in that i know the person who did this is in way worse economic circumstances than me, and so i don't hate them. i am unlike bike cuck in that i am spitefully glad that they didn't get anything valuable from stealing my backpack. i am yet a third thing in that i hope they ate the nutrigrain bars i was keeping in there