catching the container, the punk rolls his eyes, a small smile crossing his mouth. “cheers, Gwendy. my saving grace.”

“nah, neva’. those spikes could be made ‘a lead and I’d still carry ‘em. nah, just a headache. feels like an ice pick to the brain, man. hurts.” he’s already downed a couple painkillers, dry. desperation for relief? who knows.

Pyrite.⠀ alright time to project myself into Hobie He talks with his hands when his emotions get high 💪 a very physical speaker

dunno how many “it is what it is” I got left in me

‘ah don’t believe in bandwagons.

they call their friends parents by they first name.

real shit.

‘s a cardinal sin

pete did that shit

nah mate we don’t exist

Bro thinks ‘es one of us.

in a stolen body? yeh. im all for stealin’ when it’s for a /cause/, not for power.

why you hatin’

nah.

queen Elizabeth didn’t pass from old age, I went into her room and shot her.

swear he made a joke ‘bout it once

Pyrite.⠀ guess I should post this here since Twitter is deciding to shit the bed.