i was asked if i had any bread by a specter with a hunting knife on the corner of bushwick and halsey. my friends say it’s because i was reading a book at night.
regardless, i said i seriously did not have any, and he just walked away.
photo for reference
I'm the guy who thought he was the hero, but turned out to be an NPC. Maybe I tried something, or just gave the robbers a shifty look, but I'm definitely wounded. The robber is now waving the gun around and pointing to me to show this shit is serious.
correspondences, drafts, deleted emails, notes app, manifestation journals.. either you do it, or you want to— so screw being a dreamer and start being a do-er
