it was a rainy day here in santiago
It was a rainy day here in Santiago; and more than that, it was a weird day here in Santiago.
Today, I went to work, talked about not kissing in the rain, ate pan con chancho, helped in a wallet robbery, refused to use an umbrella *I HATE UMBRELLAS*, met new people, was very late to work, ate muffins, washed my hair in the rain, rode the bus, and I FORGOT MY HEADPHONES AT HOME, talked to my mother, actually talked to my mother, about real life, grudgingly used my hair dryer, ate cake at a party, rode the subway, called a boy, walked through the park, and admired the leaves falling like rain.
But I don't want to think about things. I want to write.
Guys I just wrote a mini story about a giraffe. It was terrible.
Today, I went to work, talked about not kissing in the rain, ate pan con chancho, helped in a wallet robbery, refused to use an umbrella *I HATE UMBRELLAS*, met new people, was very late to work, ate muffins, washed my hair in the rain, rode the bus, and I FORGOT MY HEADPHONES AT HOME, talked to my mother, actually talked to my mother, about real life, grudgingly used my hair dryer, ate cake at a party, rode the subway, called a boy, walked through the park, and admired the leaves falling like rain.
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