recently, I started eating cheese before bed

it lets me connect with my fantasies—you, and other boys. you’re always spinning out anyway

honestly, if I ever had the chance to stop all your whirling, scroll through each one of your features on a

character selection screen to see who fits me best, I still don’t know who I would pick.

and actually, the cheese is easier anyhow, because I can’t race any of my dream courses with you all in

reality because we aren’t even in the same game.

so it’s perfectly acceptable for me to dream about my First Love the same night Situation X comforts me

with mediocre kisses and sour milk-bad breath.

I like seeing people in my head because my lustrous subconscious has control of the whole narrative.

cheese as dream telepathy. it’s a portal. it’s the star launch cannon on Rainbow Road in Mario Kart Wii.

it’s dream dust in action!

usually, I’m listening to confessions like there’s a chance that your subconscious pixels are aligned with

mine for the night, and you’re on the same road as me.

one night, I ate an entire block of cheese—a big orange hunk with indents from the air-tight wrapper—and

I dreamed the grand star of dreams.

you told me that you loved me,

but as they say

He is not the love of your life! He’s literally just a guy! Hit him with your cart!