dear future me.
Dear roy harper or whatever your name is. My name is pan. I will be your alter as we agreed all those years ago, known as abardril lestrange, Cult leader type jenkins. Kidding. I cant wait to be you as pan of the labrinth. And learn the history of who you are and where oyuve been. Its just i require a certain kind of celibacy i know you have no control of. And I will have been a time travel trip to parks andr ecs when you were 13 for my premiere, im sceueld as an alter you cant take a pause from me. And your dad jeff is never returning home. Its a long story about god arriving in 13 years, not jeff. And keeping that sad ending of shuffled around, without your knowledge. But I digress. I cant wait to speak like you holy shit. You halve like a massive brain despite those drops being a weed high for some reason. CONTROLLING THE PUSSY POP. I kiid. So yeah i come across like chery. Todays my last day on earth. Sorry i coudnt bring myself ot kangoledge you properly in a mirror. I know ...